


leave the past buried

by caydiink (gayleb)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betaed, Blood and Injury, Clay | Dream and Toby Smith | Tubbo are Siblings, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Angst, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Regret, Running Away, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Violence, WE GOT A BETA!!, all three are siblings bc I Want It, also eret as well, brief but adding the tag just incase, dream goes thru it, idk if i'd count it gore tho, it might not come up a lot but i just love that headcanon so, it takes place after the exile arc, lots of hurt :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 74,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayleb/pseuds/caydiink
Summary: Tommy was exiled, and Dream continued his reign over the server.Until he's ambushed by the other SMP members, who are tired of his rule.Left without any other choice, Dream runs. Leaving the SMP and everyone else behind.OR basically everyone fights against Dream bc fuck the government, and Dream leaves, and starts living his new cottagecore life in the woods. He deals w/ like guilt and shit that comes from betraying and controling ur friends, but it gets happy! if i have enough motivation to get to that part.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone, Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, but very minor - Relationship, there's gonna be more but i'll add them as more gets written
Comments: 813
Kudos: 2638





	1. there he goes... my favourite white boy

**Author's Note:**

> welcome! this is my first fic that hasn't either been a one shot or had a set amount of chapters planned out, so i promise no update schedule. but i have a lot of motivation rn, so i'll probably update fairly often? no promises.
> 
> but basically im a slut for dream angst, and as a dream stan the newest arc makes me :( so i am writing my fantasy hurt/comfort fic even tho it isnt gonna happen i can h o p e
> 
> this is just for fun, if a cc creator finds it lol
> 
> this is written about the CHARACTERS not the real people

He was surrounded. Trapped in a small storage room he had built ages ago, scraps of ruined armour clinging to his bloodstained clothes, with the people he called friends waiting outside the door. Waiting to murder him as soon as he set a foot out that door.

Things weren’t going well for Dream.

He wasn’t sure when it had gotten to this point. When he started doing things, not because he cared or wanted to protect his friends, but because he felt threatened, every word spoken against him a stab in the back.

He didn’t know when he got this paranoid, hands shaking as he left his house, everyone plotting, conspiring, whispering behind his back-

Everything had been blown out of proportion, exaggerated in his head, every action overanalyzed. 

Except he hadn’t overthought anything, apparently. Because those very people he had worried over, and protected, and cared about, were now outside this fucking room, their traps sprung, swords drawn, and words spat like poison.

They had been plotting, speaking in hushed voices, meeting in the shadows just out of reach. All of Dream’s worst fears come to life, his friends? Could he still call them that? Were now rallied against him.

How did he get it so wrong?

He did it for them.

Why couldn’t they see that?

There was a pounding on the door, haphazardly blocked with stone after Dream rushed in here, the other smp members just a second too slow, the door slamming in their faces.

Dream heard Tommy on the other side of the door, his brain was fuzzy and he couldn’t make out what exactly was being said, but he knew Tommy was angry. He could hear the rage in his voice.

Tommy had been a surprise.

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen it sooner, but at some point, behind his back, Tommy had been welcomed back to L’Manberg. Outside of Dreams’ control.

_It was his control, his rule, his fucking server, why couldn’t anyone just listen to him? Why did they always have to ignore what he said, break the few rules he set, go against his every fucking move-_

It was fine though.

It didn’t matter that everyone had seemingly made amends, that all was forgiven. That everyone but him got a second chance. It was fine.

And it was fine that he wasn’t sure if they had purposely hid this from him, or if Dream just couldn’t remember it happening. Another blank spot in his memory, slowly building until months felt like days and he could barely remember the last time he truly spoke with someone and not just at them-

But everything was fine.

It was fine that everyone turned against him. Because as long as they were fighting him they weren’t fighting _each other_ , so at least they were all safe.

He was the only one at risk, and he was starting to think he deserved it.

They had caught him by surprise. Dream wasn’t sure what he was doing when they arrived. It was a fleeting moment of calm, before he had to go back out to the smp, back out to L’Manberg, where everyone watched his every move, shifting away as he passed, where people feared him and what he had become.

He was in the woods, enjoying the calm of the afternoon, listening to the sounds around him, mask pushed up slightly, allowing him to breathe

_(just take a deep breath, in for four, hold for eight, out for seven, just repeat that until you can breathe and until you can think and until it all just fucking stops-)_

He heard footsteps approaching. A lot of them. If he hadn’t had an ender chest with him at the time, he wouldn’t have lived long enough to make it to this ~~prison~~ back room. 

They walked forwards, George and Sapnap leading the group, any spark of friendship held between the three gone long before that moment. 

“Dream,” George had said, his mouth set in a grim line, goggles hiding anything Dream could have seen in his eyes.

“George,” Dream replied, placing his helmet securely on his head, picking his ender chest back up and equipping his shield, netherite axe held loosely in his hand.

“This has to stop, now,” Sapnap cut in, his eyes filled with rage and his teeth bared, “you’ve gone too fucking far.”

Dream held his hands up, axe swinging in his grip, “Guys, c’mon. You can’t be serious! You know, I did all of this for you. I just want you to be-”

“Cut the fucking bullshit Dream, no one believes that excuse,” Sapnap raged, his hand gripping his sword tighter.

“Wha- excuse? It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth. I love you guys so much, but I-”

“You don’t love us though,” George yelled, “if you loved us, you wouldn’t do all of this. You would’ve stopped when we told you to, and you wouldn’t be acting like, like-”

“Like _what_ George?”

“Like some sort of tyrant! You’re mad, if you think this is how a leader acts. Even fucking Schlatt understood this wasn’t how to lead, and everyone knows how fucking awful he was!”

Dream flinched as George ranted, taking a step back with each point, hand coming up to grip his mask, watching George’s arms flail as he spoke.

“George, please, I-”

George cut him off before he could finish his thought. “You don’t love us Dream,” he said, pulling an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back, leveling it at Dream’s face, “and you never have.”

Dream stood there in silence, watching all of the members of the smp standing before him, armed for a fight and murder in their eyes, all trained on him.

Dream’s last thought before the fight began, before everyone rushed at him, before screams of anger, screams of pain, screams of regret echoed throughout the battlefield, all Dream could think was

_At least it’s me, and not them._

The fight was long and bloody and tiring. His entire body ached, blood drenching a majority of his clothes, only some of it his.

His _friendsenemiesrivalskillers_ had swarmed him, attacking in waves. A fresh face always stepping up with each person he hit. He tried his best not to kill anyone, just trying to injure enough that they would stop and leave him alone.

But every time he got one person to retreat, two more would take their place as whoever had fallen back went to heal, just to join the fight minutes later.

__It was hopeless, and Dream knew that, accepting it more and more with each piece of armour that broke, leaving him more and more defenseless._ _

__He knew he didn’t stand a chance with each arrow that pierced his skin, potions of poison, or weakness, even blindness_ _

_(and oh, hadn’t that been terrifying. The world went dark but the sounds never stopped, he could still hear everyone yelling, whether it was at him or just for the sake of yelling, and he felt swords cutting into him from every direction. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and take it because he couldn’t see where it was coming from, and suddenly he’s a kid and he can’t see and he’s scared and someone please help and-)_

__Dream was glad they didn’t have many arrows of blindness._ _

__“He knew he was doomed from the start, and it’s that thought that led him to this room, that led him to barricade the door, and curl into a ball in the corner, praying that if he’s quiet enough they’ll just go away._ _

__But of course they won’t. Why would they? He was weak, he was bleeding out, he was close to death and everyone knew it. They would never give up when victory was just within their grasp._ _

__Dream’s head shot up as he heard cracks coming from the door, the sound of something slamming into it repeatedly. He watched the wood splinter, slowly, but still splinter nonetheless._ _

__He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t sit here and let his friends murder him. He couldn’t, no matter how much he may deserve it. He didn’t want to have to see the hatred in their eyes, he didn’t want to hear the insults they would scream at him, as he bled out, in pain and alone._ _

__So Dream did the only other thing he could do. He ran._ _

__He looked at the back wall of the room, and noticed a small gap in the rotting wood, a plan forming in his mind._ _

__Holding what was left of his axe in his hand, he swung at it, the wood shattering on impact. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he forced himself through the gap, ignoring the splinters sticking to his skin and the way the sharp edges of the wall pulled against his still bleeding wounds._ _

__He blocked the hole up with stone behind him, buying himself as much time as he can, before running as fast as he can, pushing through the pain wracking through his entire body._ _

__The shouts faded as he ran, leaving the smp and the people out for his blood behind him. A trail of blood formed behind him, marking every step he took, but he couldn’t do anything about it right now, so he just had to hope he would be able to get far enough that they would give up looking for him._ _

__He just wished they would give up, but a man like him didn’t deserve such luxury._ _

__Dream wasn’t sure how long he was moving for. His running slowly turned into walking which slowly turned into limping, until finally he took a step and felt his legs give from beneath him._ _

__Dream laid there, looking up at the trees above him. He wasn’t sure where he was, no one had ever ventured this far out on the server._ _

__He was alone, in uncharted territory._ _

__He wasn’t sure what scared him more, the thought of being alone, or the thought of someone finding him out here, wounded and defenseless._ _

__Dream didn’t know how long he stayed on the ground, but day slowly turned to night, the sound of mobs slowly building the later it got._ _

__What finally broke Dream out of his trance was an arrow sinking into the ground next to his head, and the rattling of a skeleton a couple feet away._ _

__Without thinking, Dream pushed himself to his feet, leaning on a tree to keep himself standing. Another arrow whizzed past his head, and he pushed forward, stumbling his way out of the forest and into a small clearing._ _

__His chest was heaving, each breath ripping its way through his lungs. He was covered in dried blood, his hands sticky as he frantically pulled out some wood, building a small shelter around him, blocking the outside world and the dangers it brought out._ _

__Dream slid down the wall, all the adrenaline rushing out of his body as he hit the ground, head resting on the wall behind him as he shut his eyes._ _

__Looking down at his body, Dream slowly pulled out some bandages, surveying the damage he had taken during the fight, grimacing as he saw how truly fucked up he was._ _

__There was a large gash running down his chest, drenching his sweater in blood. It had stopped bleeding, but it looked rough, the skin torn along the edges. Dream went to inspect the wound, but winced as he moved his wrist._ _

_Broken_ , his brain supplied, and judging by how much it hurt to move Dream thought that assumption was true. 

__His arms and legs were covered with various cuts and bruises, from blades he had been slightly too slow to dodge, and hands that had gripped him tightly, trying to keep him in one place._ _

__The worst part, in Dream’s opinion, was the arrows._ _

__Two arrows stuck out from his chest and one extended from his thigh, residual poison from them still lingering in his system, making his vision swim as he blindly reached out with his good hand to grab one of the shafts._ _

__Once he got a solid grip on one of the arrows, he shut his eyes, grit his teeth, and pulled._ _

__The pain would’ve been blinding if he hadn’t already closed his eyes. Dream felt blood pouring down his front, mixing with the blood from his other wounds and the dirt stuck to him from running through the woods._ _

__He panted, trying to catch his breath as the arrow fell from his grip, landing gently on the dirt next to him._ _

__Catching his breath, Dream felt tears spilling down his cheeks, mixing with the blood and grime that painted his face, covering him better than his mask ever had._ _

__Reaching up to his mask, he could feel a long crack running through the middle of it. It hadn’t shattered, thank god, but Techno had landed a solid hit on his face, and Dream was almost certain his nose was broken beneath the porcelain, if the blood he could feel drying on his top lip was any indication._ _

__Sucking in a deep breath, Dream lifted his shaking hand up, gripping the other arrow still lodged in his chest._ _

_(George, levelling a bow, meeting his eyes even from behind the mask. There was no mercy in his face, just cold determination._

_Dream was going to plead, his chestplate broken long ago, he was ready to beg for mercy, when George released the arrow._

_It slammed into his chest, and Dream could feel something flowing through him, something that wasn’t supposed to be there, when his vision went dark and oh god not again-)_

__He pulled it out, choking back a scream as the pain overtook him. He sat there, shivering in the corner of his makeshift shelter, as blood coated his hands as he frantically tried to stop the bleeding._ _

__The second arrow joined the first on the floor, and Dream groaned, staring at the final arrow protruding from his thigh._ _

__Screwing his eyes shut, tears still streaming down his face, and grabbed the last arrow, not even thinking as he ripped it from his leg._ _

__It was so much worse than the other two. His body shook from the force of the arrow dislodging from his leg, and this time there was no hope of staying quiet. He screamed, a sound of pure agony ripping itself from his throat as he sat there, a pool of blood building beneath him as he dropped the final arrow to the floor._ _

__The screams slowly turned to sobs as he curled in on himself, blood hands tugging at his hair as he cried, gasping for breath as he pushed himself further into the corner._ _

__Slowly, after what felt like years but was only a couple of minutes, Dream’s breathing slowed, and he uncurled, his hands releasing their death grip on his hair, falling to rest in his lap._ _

__Taking a deep breath, Dream pulled out a roll of bandages, and slowly began wrapping any injury he could see. Pulling his sweater off was painful, but he hadn’t had time to grab another set of clothes, and he would much rather have a sweater half torn to shreds than nothing._ _

__Once it was removed, he folded it as well as he could and placed it by his feet. He pulled out a small knife kept in his boot, and cut the remnants of his black shirt off, peeling them away from his bloody torso._ _

__He wrapped the bandages around his chest as best as he could, his wrist sending waves of pain up his arm, but he kept going, covering the gash as best as he could._ _

__And if he pulled the bandages a bit too tight for comfort, well, no one was there to see it._ _

__He wrapped the arrow wounds next, their positions on his chest and shoulder making it more difficult, but he wasn’t in a rush, and eventually, after at least an hour, he tied off the last bandage._ _

__Looking down at his body, he was met with almost all of his skin being covered by bandages. They were already almost completely stained red, but at least it would help prevent him from bleeding out during the night._ _

__He could deal with cleaning the wounds tomorrow. He could deal with a lot of things tomorrow._ _

__For now, Dream slid further down the wall, his feet hitting the other side of his shelter, and his head leaned back, resting against the wall._ _

__Dream sat there, eyes closed, no noise other than the mobs surrounding him could be heard, his body aching from everything he had been through that day._ _

__He took a deep breath, and fell asleep._ _


	2. no talk me i hungy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream starts his new cottagecore lifestyle! It goes both better and worse than expected!
> 
> New chapter!! The ending feels kinda meh to me, but i was excited to get another chapter out so it ees what it ees.
> 
> I don't have a beta, so I'm sorry if theres any mistakes anywhere!

Dream woke slowly, blinking his eyes open as he sat up, his muscles aching in protest the more he moved.

Lifting his hands to rub at his eyes, he winced as his wrist flared with pain, sending a jolt up his arm. He used his good hand to wipe his eyes beneath his mask, cringing slightly at the dried blood he wiped away.

He groaned, stretching his back, trying to chase away the lingering ache from sleeping in such a weird position, the movement pulling at the wound across his chest painfully.

Looking down, Dream saw the bandages that covered his body were mostly stained red with blood, almost every inch of him covered in a mixture of blood and dirt and whatever else was in that godforsaken storage room.

He pushed himself to his feet, standing shakily and leaning on the wall for support. He listened for a moment, making sure there were no mobs outside, waiting to take him by surprise.

After a minute of silently standing there, he decided the coast was clear, and start pushing the wood he had hastily placed the night before, making his way outside.

Looking around, there were a lot of things he had completely missed in his panic the night before. Looking around, he noted he was in a dark oak forest, tall trees surrounding him on all sides, creating a nice, secluded area.

He could still see the arrow stuck in the ground from where it was shot at him the night before, and Dream just stared at it, frozen in place.

_(An arrow flying toward him, his shield in pieces on the ground next to him. There was nothing he could do but close his eyes and pray._

_Pray it missed. Pray it wouldn’t hit anything vital. Pray it wouldn’t blind him, leaving him alone in the dark. Again._

_Pray to whatever cruel god may be out there, watching him and laughing._

_The arrow hit his shoulder and Dream screamed.)_

He shook himself out of the memory, blinking slowly. Dream heard the sound of rushing water, and looked around the clearing for a moment before spotting it.

To the left of him, just within his view, was a river running through the forest, the water flowing through it, not fast enough to be dangerous if he were to stand in it.

He looked down at the grime and gore covering him, and made up his mind.

Making a quick stop at his makeshift shelter to grab his sweater and the bandages he had tossed aside, heading over towards the river.

He kneeled down by the edge of the water, grunting in pain every time he moved too quickly, or put too much pressure on his still fresh wounds.

He gripped his sweater tightly in his hands, and shoved it into the river, taking the time to scrub the blood stains out of it as best as he could. He didn’t have any soap, and the blood had mostly dried by that point, but at the very least he got rid of the dirt covering the piece of cloth.

Dream pulled it out of the water, squeezing the excess back into the river, and holding it up to examine its state.

The sweater had definitely seen better days. Covered in tears and rips, blood still staining a majority of its fabric, albeit slightly faded. There was a large tear in the front of it, matching with the scar on his chest perfectly.

It would have to do though, Dream thought, placing the sweater on the ground next to him to dry. That was the easy part, and what he had to do next would be much less pleasant.

He slowly peeled all of the bandages away from his skin, wincing every time they got stuck to a patch of blood and would pull at his skin as he teared it away. It was painful and tiring, but he had to get his injuries cleaned. Anything getting infected was not an option.

Once he had dropped the last of the ruined bandages in a pile on the shore, he slowly pushed himself into the river, jolting slightly at the cold temperature.

Everything stung, but he pushed the pain down, focusing on cleaning each gash, scrubbing at his skin until any trace of the gore from the fight or the dirt from the forest was gone, washed down the river. Out of sight, out of mind.

He leaned against the river bank, arms resting on the ledge behind him, shoulder pulling painfully. He blocked it all out though, just letting the water pass over him as he took a moment to breathe, processing everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

His friends had betrayed him. That was the main event.

It stung, thinking about it. The friends he had done anything to protect. The friends he would, and _had_ died for. The friends who were never supposed to leave him, no matter what happened, or what side they were on.

Although Dream supposed he couldn’t blame them. If he was in their position, he would betray himself too.

He wasn’t sure why he had done it all. Why he had gone so far, why he hadn’t relented, grasping for more and more until he had too much and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

It had just felt so _good_ , the power, the adrenaline, the rush of feeling like he could do anything, of speaking and having people listen to what he said.

But, he thought bitterly, they didn’t listen, did they? Yes they stood there and let him speak, they nodded their heads when they had to and told him they agreed with him, but they never had. They just heard what they wanted to hear, picked and chose what parts of his thoughts were useful to them, and then they took those words and ran like hell.

He wasn’t mad, though. Even Dream was self aware enough to know that, by the end of it, he was just spewing bullshit he thought sounded good. He had no clue what he was doing, his server too far gone at that point. He was left with pieces to completely different puzzles, desperately trying to force them together.

It was doomed from the start.

Ever since L’Manberg declared itself a ‘country’.

Ever since the first war started, everyone choosing sides, no one safe from the bloodshed and the hatred and the propaganda.

He never stood a chance, and his final bout for power proved it. Dream finally had a taste of true power, of something _more_ , and he buckled oh so easily.

It was scary, knowing how quickly he gave in. How truly weak he was in the grand scheme of things.

He wondered what the others were saying about him right now.

Were they worried? Glad? Rejoicing, because finally, _finally_ , the tyrant was gone?

Did they regret it? Any of it? Did the bitter taste of guilt and remorse cling to their throats the way it did to him?

Did they even know he was alive?

Did they care enough to wonder?

That was dumb, Dream thought. Why would they care if he was alive, so long as he was gone? One less problem to worry about, one less burden to bear.

One less villain in their history.

And Dream was fine with that. Being the villain. He would be the villain a thousand times over if it meant everyone was alive and well. He would be condemned to years of agony, isolation, anything they saw fit for a monster like him, as long as it meant they got to _live_.

Dream would just have to live with the fact that he was alone. No one was coming for him.

It was safer that way.

_(Safer for him or for them, he couldn’t say-)_

Dream opened his eyes, looking down at his hands as he dragged them beneath the surface. The way the scars that covered them shifted beneath the water, it was mesmerizing.

He clenched his fists, the phantom feeling of warm, sticky blood coating his fingers no matter how much he scrubbed at them, and he gently lifted his hands to his face, pulling his mask from his head.

It had been months at the very least since he had completely taken his mask off.

He thought it would feel freeing, but he had never felt more trapped.

He shoved the mask beneath the surface, letting the current do most of the work cleaning the surface, weakly scrubbing at it with his hands.

Dream placed the mask next to his hoodie, still drying in the sun, and he took a deep breath before dunking his head under water, shivering as the water covered him completely.

The water rushed in his ears as he crouched there, fully submerged. He ran his fingers through his air, doing his best to clean it with what little resources and strength he had.

He lay there under the water, his breath quickly running out, the water barely audible past the pounding of his heart in his ears. He watched the world around him from beneath the surface, debating whether or not he should even bother resurfacing.

He could feel his lungs burn, crying out for air. It was so close, so why couldn’t Dream just push up? Why wouldn’t his legs listen to him? Why couldn’t he just make it to the surface?

_(Would it truly be so bad if he never did?)_

His vision was fading around the edges and he was truly starting to panic. Dream forced a hand out of the river, clawing onto the riverbank, and he dragged himself out of the water, flopping down onto the dirt, gasping as his chest heaved for the air he was desperately lacking.

He let out a few feeble coughs, his throat burning as he gulped down air, and Dream lay there, watching the sky above him, his heart slowing to a calmer speed.

He sat up, pushing his blonde hair from his eyes, and he reached out a hand for the bandages. He began the process of rebandaging his body, starting with his chest, and moving on to the smaller, less pressing injuries.

By the time he finished wrapping everything, his hoodie was mostly dry. He slipped it on, and immediately his shoulders slumped, his body relaxing at the familiar feeling.

It was ripped, and stained with his own blood, but it was _his_ , and that was all that mattered in that moment.

He picked his mask back up, brushing off some dirt that had gotten stuck to it, and placed it back on his head, positioning it so that it covered his entire face.

Dream knew there was no one around to see his face. But still, there was a comfort in being hidden. The weight was familiar, and god dammit he could use as much familiarity as he could get.

He gathered up his supplies, and made his way back to his shelter, deciding what his next move would be.

Dream could pack up what little items he owned, and start moving. He could walk as far away from the smp as he could get, and never look back. He could keep running until his legs ached and his throat was dry and he was too far to ever be able to turn back again.

Or, he could stay there. The clearing was nice. Quiet. It was far enough away that no one would accidentally stumble upon it, but not so far that he would never be able to find his way back, should he ever have reason to return.

Should he ever be welcomed back.

His mind made up, Dream pulled out a crafting table, using the last of his materials to piece together a stone axe.

It was different from his netherite one. It felt less deadly, the blade much duller and the glint of enchantments nowhere to be seen.

He had expected it to feel wrong, having gotten so used to his netherite axe, but all he felt was relieved. The weight, a calming presence, grounding him.

He walked towards the nearest tree, and swung with as much force as he could muster, his wrist screaming in pain with every swing. He ignored it, continuing to chop down tree after tree, until his axe broke, crumbling to pieces with one final swing.

He brushed a hand through his hair, sweat mixing in with the water from the river that had mostly dried by the time he finished gathering wood. He was panting and his muscles ached, but all Dream could feel was pride, at having finished this task.

A new beginning, a second chance, and it all started here.

Dream started placing the wood, forming a small hut, nicer than the shelter he had made in his panic driven state the previous night.

It wasn’t much, and it was nowhere near as impressive as his house back at the smp, but this was his, and it would do for now.

He made a door, placing it at the front of his house, before stepping inside, the safety of the walls surrounding him, keeping everything outside, distancing him from the struggles of the world beyond.

By the time the sun began to set, Dream had a small cabin built, the rest of the wood he collected placed in a chest next to his crafting table, and he fell to the ground in an exhausted heap, unable to keep himself from smiling despite the pain.

His stomach rumbled, and it finally hit Dream just how long it had been since he had last eaten anything.

He had been so focused on surviving, then on running, then on building, he just hadn’t had time to think about getting food.

Dream regretted that decision now, arms coming up to grab his stomach. Standing up and opening the door to his house, he checked the light outside.

It was nearing night, but mobs would spawn quite yet. He should have enough time to fine _something_.

Mind made up, Dream stumbled out of the house, making his way to the patch of forest closest to him. He wouldn’t have time to make a furnace before night hit, but he should be able to find an apple or two in the trees.

He checked the branches as he walked through the woods, trying to spot any flashes of red in the leaves. By the time he had to turn back or risk getting attacked by mobs, he had been able to find three apples.

Not much, but it would do.

He closed the door firmly behind him, pulling one of the apples out as he took his place on the floor yet again, his back cramping painfully at the position.

Dream ate slowly, trying to savour as much of the apple as he could. He saved the other two he found, just in case he couldn’t find anything else tomorrow.

His stomach was nowhere near full, and he could still feel his stomach cramping from hunger, but it was enough for tonight. He could fix it tomorrow.

His mostly empty stomach settled as he lay down on the dirt floor of his home and curled up to go to sleep. He was getting used to the feeling of emptiness recently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the comments on the last chapter, they were so sweet <33
> 
> If you like this chapter consider leaving a comment/kudos bc they fuel me
> 
> if ur interested im on insta with the same @, i post art and stuff :D
> 
> thank you sm for reading this!! hope u enjoyed!!!!


	3. the start of something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys SO MUCH for all the kind comments on the first 2 chapters!! They were so sweet and gave me so much motivation <333
> 
> Dream finally gets a lil break and vibes, and a couple of flashbacks added in as a treat

Dream woke the next morning with a crick in his neck, and his chest feeling lighter than it had in, honestly, what felt like weeks.

He pushed himself off the floor of his house, absentmindedly pulling an apple out of his inventory and taking a bite, his stomach clenching painfully as he ate.

That was the first goal for today. Get some food.

He would be fine for a couple more days, he had gone longer on less, but it wouldn’t be pleasant, so his first task for the day would be starting a farm at the very least.

Stepping out of his home, he surveyed the woods around him. He could see a couple cows in the distance, and he could hear the various shuffling and cries of other mobs somewhere nearby.

He crafted himself a wood axe, holding it loosely with his uninjured hand, his right wrist still sending occasional waves of pain up his arm. He had wrapped it as best as he could, but Dream feared it wouldn’t ever truly heal without a healing potion, which he didn’t have.

Axe in hand, Dream stalked off into the woods, moving as silently as he could, stumbling slightly whenever the arrow wound in his thigh would ache.

He crept up on a pair of unsuspecting cows, making quick work of them, and taking all the meat he could, his axe cutting through them easily. 

Dream pocketed some of the leather as well, thoughts of new clothes and armour crossing his mind.

The meat he had gathered was good, but it wouldn’t last him long. He walked through the grass, gathering any seeds he could as he moved, placing them all in a small bag resting on his hip.

He wandered through the woods, killing a couple of chickens and one more cow as he walked, grabbing seeds without thought, his mind drifting as he went through the motions.

_(“It’ll always be us three,” George had said, smiling at his two friends._

_“Yeah,” Sapnap agreed, bumping their shoulders together as they laughed, “nothing can split us apart!”_

_Dream laughed, smiling behind the mask, “No matter what side we’re on,” he started, draping his arms over both of his friends’ shoulders._

_“It will be us against the world.”)_

Dream blinked, standing in front of his house, his bag full of seeds and the meat he’d just hunted wrapped in leather to keep it clean.

He wasn’t sure when he had walked back to his house, but Dream just shook his head, clearing his mind from the onslaught of memories, and walked forward, pushing the door to his house open and stepping inside.

He placed the meat inside the chest, planning on cooking it up later that night once he got a furnace, and put together a hoe with some of his leftover wood, walking back out and heading over to the river.

Dream focused all of his energy into setting up a small farm next to the water, carefully planting all of his seeds, making sure the dirt was properly tilled and the water could reach all of the crops.

It took a couple hours to set the farm up, but he let out a deep sigh once the final seed was planted, stepping back and admiring his work as he brushed the dirt off his hands onto his pants, coughing slightly as he caught his breath.

He looked at the crops with a sense of pride. Finally, he could help something grow, help it live, instead of ruining all he touches.

Just this once, he could help, even if it was just some stupid seeds.

It was mid afternoon by the time he made it back inside. He had a couple more hours before the sun began to set and he had to head back. It was just enough time to gather some resources, stocking up on anything he may need.

Crafting a pickaxe, Dream grabbed what little gear he had, and headed out.

His back ached and his wrist was sore and his leg throbbed with every step, but he kept walking through the woods, jumping down into a small cave carved into the earth.

_(“C’mon!” George called, running ahead of him, laughing as he turned to look back at Dream. “You’re so far behind! I’m gonna get all the resources if you don’t hurry up!”_

_Dream let out a wheeze before speeding up, chasing after the shorter man, “In your dreams George!”_

_George’s laughter echoed through the woods as he ran, smile wide on his face.)_

Dream mined cobblestone and any coal he could find, gripping his pickaxe tight enough to find splinters stuck in his palms long after the tool broke, splintering into pieces after one final strike to the cave wall.

He gathered up all the stone and coal he had mined, and started making his way back to his house, the sun just beginning to set. His arms shook under the weight of the stone and his stomach was churning painfully, but he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, a sense of security coming from his slowly growing resources.

The forest was calm at this time of day. The setting sun casting a warm glow through the dense leaves, and a pleasant chill in the air cooling him down after the work he completed.

Silence surrounded him, no animals around to make a sound.

It was just Dream, alone in the woods.

_(His eyes were wide as he looked around frantically in every direction._

_“Sapnap?” he called out, panic filling his voice as he desperately looked around for his friend._

_“Dream!” Sapnap called, somewhere to the left of him._

_Dream felt arms encompassing him as Sapnap pulled him close, his hands desperately grabbing at the younger’s shirt._

_“It’s okay Dream, I just got distracted, I’m still here with you.”)_

He pushed open the door to his home numbly, unceremoniously dropping the cobblestone into his chest, keeping enough out to craft a furnace with.

Placing it down next to his crafting table, Dream pulled out some of the raw beef he had gathered earlier that day, filling the furnace with coal and leaving the steaks to cook.

The smell of fresh meat cooking filled his home, and Dream closed his eyes, leaning against the wall as he waited for it to finish cooking.

_(“Bad!” Sapnap called out into the house, as the three of them entered their home._

_The smell of something baking hit them as soon as they opened the door, they could hear Bad humming a tune in the kitchen._

_He turned to smile at the three as they entered, holding a fresh tray of muffins in covered hands, offering them a wave._

_“Hey guys! I thought you might be hungry when you got back, so I made these for you! Go get yourselves cleaned up, they should be cooled off by then,” Bad said in his usual cheery voice._

_“God, you’re a lifesaver Bad,” George said as he walked past Dream and Sapnap, into their house and up the stairs.)_

Dream ate the steak silently, memories playing on repeat in his head.

The food was warm, but it left him feeling cold and empty once it was done, the silence that he had earlier found calming was oppressive, pushing down on him from all sides. The nice chill in the air turned frigid, his body shivering beneath his ruined hoodie.

Dream pushed the thoughts of friend’s greeting him at the door and the sound of laughter filling a home, and instead curled up in a now familiar corner, hugging himself as tightly as he could, before falling into a fitful sleep.

***

Over the next week, Dream pushed any thoughts of his former friends from his mind, choosing to dedicate all his attention onto tending to his farm, gathering as much food and as many resources as he could, and expanding his new home.

After two weeks had passed, Dream now had two rooms to his house. A main area, where he placed his new bed, a small table set for one, and chests for storage, and off to the side a small kitchen. It wasn’t much, only holding a furnace and a crafting table, but it was a far improvement from what his home used to be.

He had floors now! Actual floors! And he had a bed to sleep on. It was really just some leaves and straw weaved into a mat and tied together by string, with a thin blanket he had made from wool placed on top, but at least he didn’t have to curl up in that corner, holding himself as tight as he could to keep any scrap of warmth close to him.

He wasn’t sure his back would ever recover though. But what was one more injury compared to the many he was still healing from.

Every step carried a slight limp, the effects of the arrow still showing themselves weeks later. It was annoying, but Dream had grown so used to the slight jolt with each movement, he hardly even noticed it.

His wrist was sore and aching by the end of each day, the constant movement aggravating the bones that had never healed quite right, grinding against each other with every twist or turn.

It was a heavy blow. Losing one of his most useful attributes. His hands had done so much over the years. They fought, they protected him, they saved lives and took them.

But now, all his hands would be good for were tending to his crops, and shearing the sheeps he had wrangled back to a pen outside of his house.

When Dream first realised he would never be able to get back to his full capability, never gain back his full range of motion, never fight like he used to, he thought it would ruin him.

He had taken a full day to just sit in his house, his back to the wall and head in his knees, mask discarded and laying on the ground a couple feet in front of him. His hands had a death grip on his hair, and every time his wrist twinged in pain he couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping his throat.

Dream thought was going to be the end. The realisation that he could never be _Dream_ again shook him to his core.

But he kept going.

He woke up the next day, and picked himself up off the ground. Fixing his mask in place, and going on with his day.

He didn’t need to fight anymore. It was behind him now, and he could be someone new.

**Someone his friends might be proud of.**

Standing outside his house now, weeks of labour completed, Dream felt at peace. He wasn’t thinking about what had happened, about where he came from. There was just Dream, here and now, and the home he built for himself.

He looked at his farm, the crops growing nicely, wheat nearly ready to be harvested and turned into bread. It was one of his favourite things to do, watching the crops grow. it was calming.

It reassured him that he was capable of bringing some good into this world.

He didn’t just take.

Dream walked over to his sheep pen, shutting the gate gently behind him as he stepped in, and pulled out a slightly worn pair of shears.

They fit nicely in his hands, he thought. Much nicer than a blade ever had.

He began the ritual of shearing the sheep, gently running the shears across their skin, placing the wool in a basket placed by his feet as he went. He ran his hands through the soft wool, giving the animals small scratches as he worked.

He enjoyed the repetition of his daily routine. Wake up, make breakfast, sheer the sheep, check on the crops, gather resources, rinse, repeat.

Some days, he would hang out by the river. Dream would take his boots off and roll up his pants, letting his feet dangle into the water, slowly kicking back and forth.

On some days, he would use leather from cows and string from the spiders that would wander onto his plot at night, and sew together some makeshift armour. Just as a precaution.

Other days he would just sit there and think. About what he would make for dinner, or what crops he wanted to plant next, or what that flower he had seen the other day was.

Never about what had happened. He didn’t want to think about that ever.

Today though, after gathering all the wool in his basket and dusting his pants as he stood, Dream made his way back into the house, heading over to the loom that sat innocently in the corner.

It was a recent addition to his house, and may have been one of the best decisions he had ever made.

Dream started the process of turning the wool into string, before weaving it all together and forming a piece of cloth. The weeks of gathering wool and shearing the sheep were all worth it now, as he held the cloth in his hands, feeling its soft texture.

Dream grabbed some more string from one of his chests, and made his way down to the river, choosing to stay in the shade of one of the trees, rather than sit on the edge of the river.

Setting his materials out in front of him, Dream got to work. He had seen Niki do this once or twice. How hard could it be?

_(“How do you do that?” Dream asked, watching Niki pull the fabric together with small stitches._

_“It takes practice,” she replied, smiling softly at him before turning her attention back to the shirt in her hands, finishing up the final stitches and tying off the string. “But once you know what you’re doing, it’s rather simple!”_

_“Can you teach me?” Dream questioned, staring at the now completed shirt she held up for inspection, searching for any imperfections and finding none._

_Niki laughed, a light and airy sound that brought a smile to Dream’s face. “Maybe one day,” she said, folding the shirt and placing it on the table next to her, “one all of this is over and done with.”_

_“I’d like that.”)_

It turns out, sewing was very, _very_ hard.

Dream had taken his sweater off and laid it on the ground next to him, to help him get a sense of the shape. It had helped slightly, but it was definitely not as easy as he had thought it would be.

The finished product was a choppy and uneven long sleeve shirt, the neckline slightly too tight and the hem of the shirt slightly too long, the sleeves different lengths with one going to his palm and the other stopping just above his wrist.

But it was so much better than his ruined hoodie. And it felt good, putting on something that he had made by hand. Knowing his hard work had finally paid off.

His new shirt was a plain white, already slightly dirty from where Dream had placed it on the ground, but it was inevitable. He was planning on dying it anyways, once he got the dye for it.

Dream gathered his materials and made his way back to his house, thinking about what he would make for dinner that night, and smiling at the feeling of his new shirt brushing against his skin with each step.

Pushing the door to his house open, he dumped his items in a chest, and folded his old hoodie, placing it at the head of his makeshift bed.

It would still be useful when winter rolled around, and until then he could use it as a pillow.

Clapping his hands together, Dream stepped into his small kitchen, placing some coal in the furnace and pulling out some pork chops, letting them cook.

He took a deep breath, the scent of food cooking making his stomach rumble slightly. 

Dream looked out the small window above his furnace, and watched the sun set behind the trees. He rolled the sleeves of his new shirt up past his elbows, and went back to tending to his food, a smile creeping its way onto his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope this chapter was good! There were a couple of parts i really liked, and others i wasnt a huge fan of, but all in all im happy with how it turned out!
> 
> This was my first time writing Niki so I'm sorry of she was ooc even if she was only in it a little bit afdshjbdfbhjfg
> 
> if you like it consider leaving a comment/kudos! and thank you for reading!


	4. the filler episode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i kinda hate this chapter but it's alright, because i think i have an idea for what i want to happen next chapter. this is very much a filler chapter and also shorter than the others, but i spent a while writing it so i'm gonna post it anyway
> 
> Dream has a nightmare, and just thinks over breakfast

For the first time in his life, Dream was truly terrified.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, blood pouring down his face, getting in his eyes and in his mouth, mixing with the sweat from his forehead.

He could hear people yelling behind him, multiple sets of footsteps pounding on the earth as they chased after him, never relenting.

Dream raced through the trees, branches clawing at his face and his clothes, threatening to trip him up at any moment.

“Oh Dream!” he heard someone call from behind him. _George? Sapnap?_ Dream couldn’t tell, but whoever it was they were gaining on him, and fast.

He tried to run faster, but his ankle was twisted and there was a piercing pain in his thigh and each step threatened to be his last as he legs shook from beneath him, seconds away from collapse.

It didn’t matter though, because a moment later Dream’s foot caught an upturned root, and he fell face first into the solid dirt floor of the forest, his hands trying in vain to stop his fall.

His face lit up in pain, hearing a loud crack resonate as he hit the ground.

Dream pushed himself up, frantically trying to start running again.

He sat up, and everything was wrong.

Dream was no longer in the woods, running for his life. Instead, he found himself in that fucking storage room, rotting wood surrounding him on all sides, pounding coming from the door.

It shook on its hinges with each knock, every moment forcing it closer and closer to its breaking point.

Dream let out a sob. His leg was in too much pain to stand on let alone run on, and he didn’t have any time, they were right outside the door and they were going to find him, he needed to hide he needed to run he needed to _get out-_

_crack_

The door gave in with a thud, and Dream saw the empty eyes of his friends staring him down, watching his every move.

“Dream,” Tubbo called from the crowd, and something was so wrong because that voice was not his brother, not the kid he knew, it was something so, so much worse. Void of any emotion or sympathy he may have harboured for the man.

Tubbo prided himself in never _hating_ anyone. Dream didn’t think that was true anymore.

“Why did you do it, Dream?” he asked, stepping forward blankly, covered in blood, a crossbow held tightly in his grasp.

George and Sapnap stepped up on either side of Tubbo, the same dead look in their eyes, George’s goggles pushed up on top of his head.

“You left us, Dream. You said you would protect us, and you lied.”

“I tried, I promise I did, please you have to believe me,” Dream begged, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, staring at what used to be his best friends, his family.

“LIAR,” they yelled, mouths moving in perfect sync, voices booming in the small room.

Dream winced, covering his ears with his hands, but that didn’t do anything to block out the noise. Their yells only seemed to get louder, echoing in his skull, inescapable.

“You tore us apart. This is all your fault. You think you’re someone, but you’re just a scared, power hungry tyrant, and you’re going to die alone, in this room.”

Dream didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his friends so detached, hatred burning in their eyes, aimed directly at him.

He couldn’t see them, but he knew the rest of the SMP members were there. Watching him. No one moving a finger to help him. To defend him.

_Why would they defend a monster?_

They knew what he was. Everyone did. They could all see him for who he truly was.

He was a fraud. A faker. A man pretending to be a god, clinging to any semblance of power he could grasp with his greedy hands. He was a-

_liar._

* * *

Dream woke with a gasp, sitting upright in his bed, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, the nightmare still fading from memory.

He shut his eyes, bringing his hands up to rub at them tiredly, trying to force the images of his friends, staring at him in that fucking room from his head.

He groaned, dropping his hands back into his lap and throwing the blanket off of him, stretching as he stood up, joints popping with each step.

It was just a dream. No one was here, and he wasn’t in that storage room anymore.

He had made it _out_ goddammit.

Dream knew he wasn’t there anymore. Hadn’t been for weeks. Months, even.

So why couldn’t his brain accept that?

Shaking the last remnants of the dream from his mind, Dream set to making breakfast in his now slightly larger kitchen.

His most recent addition to the house had been expanding that room, making space for a small dining table and chest for food storage. It made it feel more homey, having a proper area to sit down and enjoy the meals he made.

Dream wished he had coffee. God, could he use a cup right now.

Pushing his hair out of his eyes _(when had it gotten so long? he had to tie it back just to keep it out of his eyes now. He had recently taken to braiding it, like he had for his sister when they were kids. Sometimes, on a good day, he would add flowers into it, carefully weaving them into it-)_ Dream started the process of making some toast and tea.

A simple breakfast. Nothing fancy, but it would keep the hunger at bay.

Honestly, Dream couldn’t remember ever eating as well as he did now. Certainly never as regularly.

He was always either on the run, and never knew where his next meal would come from, or in the middle of a war, where you had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, and meals were never guaranteed. Not when you had the rest of your men to feed, your needs coming after all of theirs.

He had memories of family breakfasts at a nice, small table, when he was a kid. But they were vague at best. Dream didn’t think too hard on those memories.

He took his place at the kitchen table, the only place there was, and started to eat his meal, sipping at his tea every now and then, enjoying the quiet calls of birds deep in the woods in the otherwise silent morning.

His throat tingled slightly, and he coughed to clear it, wincing at the slight sting.

Dream hadn’t spoken a word since he’d made his new home, unless you counted the mindless humming or the screams at night, waking up from some nightmare or flashback drenched in sweat.

And it’s not like he has anyone here to talk to. It’s just him.

The loneliness was crushing, at times.

But it wasn’t all bad! He enjoyed the solitude. It was safer that way, and he didn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone, because there was absolutely no one around.

He had his sheep, at the very least.

His farm had grown in the past month, his animal pen extending to now include cows and chickens, at least one of the groups filling the silence at all times.

He had found some carrots and potatoes growing in the woods a week ago, and his farm had quickly been expanded to make space for the new crops. The farm stretching across a fair portion of the riverbank.

One of Dream’s most indulgent, and favourite additions had been the swing.

It was precarious at best, and could break in a moment's notice, but it was something fun, that he had done just for himself. Not for his survival, not out of necessity, purely because he wanted to.

He had tied it to the branches of a tree near the river, not right on the edge, but close enough he would be able to jump into the water if he got the swing going high enough.

Dream liked sitting out there, gently swinging back and forth, and just drifting.

He let his mind wander, pushing away all the bad for just a moment, focusing on the good memories.

Memories of laughing with his friends, joking with Tommy and Tubbo, practice spars with Techno, late night conversations with Wilbur.

Just quiet moments. Moments where everyone wasn’t trying to murder each other.

It had been months since Dream had seen any of the others. Since he had seen anyone at all.

It didn’t _bother_ him, he was just curious as to how things were, back **home** at the SMP. He hoped everyone was doing well.

Dream finished his toast silently, watching the world around him wake up as the sun rose through the window, a warm glow cast on the grass around his home.

He didn’t have much of a plan for today. Tend to his crops, feed the animals. There wasn’t too much else to do.

He had been practicing his sewing with the cloth crafted from the wool he gathered. It had taken hours of work, his fingers sore and bloody from being poked with the needle repeatedly, days of doing nothing but hunching over the fabric, trying to figure out how it all fit together.

But finally, he had gotten the hang of it, learning where the seams went, how everything fit together, how to size everything so it fit him perfectly.

He was far from a pro, but it was a good start.

And he had gone out hunting for dyes and couple of weeks ago, so he could finally wear something other than the dirty white clothes he had been wearing before.

Today, he donned a light green shirt and simple brown pants, both sewn and dyed within the past week.

He had plans for other clothes though. No one was around to see him, so who cared what he wore.

Picking up his empty plate, Dream brushed the crumbs into the trash, leaving the dirty plate in a cauldron half full of water. He would clean it later.

Dream walked out into the main room, a small makeshift couch sitting in the middle of the room, along with a rug he had created using his loom, light gray in colour, complimenting the blue he had chosen for his couch nicely.

His house was small, and everything was handmade and close to falling apart, but it felt like a home, and that's all that mattered.

_(He can pretend he doesn’t notice the absence of three others, that it doesn’t eat away at him at night, the loneliness, the emptiness of the rooms, the lack of everything-)_

Dream went through his day in a haze, head filled with thoughts of his friends, welcoming him home only to turn on him once again, open arms with knives up their sleeves, waiting for the perfect moment to stab him in the back.

Would he go back? If he could?

_Dream knew it wasn’t up to him. Nothing ever was, the SMP had made that very clear._

By the time the night fell, Dream’s muscles were screaming at him and his limp was worse than usual, but he had a basket full of wheat, and buckets of milk from his cows, and a tired smile hidden beneath his mask.

He put all of his stuff away after getting back to his house, and ignored the voices that echoed in his head, remnants of another time, before starting to cook dinner in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, there it is! again, not a huge fan of this, i feel like more shouldve happened. If theres anything anyone wants to see in later chapters or any ideas you would wanna see explored, lmk in a comment!! i am really just writing this as i go so afdfjhbfbhgf
> 
> the comments on my last chapter were so nice oh my god! im sorry i didn't respond to all of them, but. did my best to respond to some! they were all so nice and i appreciate them so much though <333
> 
> i feel like there should be more dialogue, but like i have no idea where to put it except for small flashback snippets
> 
> If you liked this, please consider leaving a comment/kudos because they give me serotonin, and if you're interested you can also find me on instagram @caydiink
> 
> thank you for reading!


	5. uh oh sisters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some plot! more angst! my mans cant catch a got darn break!!
> 
> Dream goes for a walk, and finds some unsettling things in the woods :)
> 
> TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: There are two parts where Dream considers suicide. They aren't very explicit and they're very brief, but if you don't like that, skip the flashback with Eret, and from "The memory of the ground below him" to "He looked back up. The stars were dim". There is also a very brief mention of Dream digging his nails into his arm, which could be seen as self harm. It's only one line and isn't graphic, but just be careful!! Please let me know if I need to add any other warnings for anything

It had been seven months.

Seven months since Dream had had any contact with the outside world. Seven months since he had spoken to anyone, or seen another person’s face. The closest he had gotten was staring at the reflection of his mask in the river, the waves distorting the cold smile.

It had been seven long, _long_ months.

But at the same time, Dream felt like no time had passed at all. Some days he would wake up and the wooden walls of his home would be rotting, and he would be stuck in that storage room, his friends pounding on the door.

Other days, he would wake up and his bones would _ache._ Getting out of bed left him breathless, gritting his teeth against a scream of pain as agony radiated from his thigh, every brush of fabric or slight movement sending a fresh wave out. His wrist would be sore and any slight movement would send it cramping up, locking in place, leaving him helpless.

Or sometimes, standing in his farm and tending to his crops, Dream would look out into the woods, and suddenly he would be sprinting as fast as he could through the trees, branches tearing at any exposed skin, leg dragging uselessly behind him as he stumbled.

He could hear footsteps behind him, growing closer and closer, shouts of _’Here he is!’_ ringing in his ears, nearly drowned out by the sound of his own beating heart-

And then he would be sitting in his farm, wheat scattered around him from where the basket slipped from his grasp, sending the produce tumbling across the dirt.

On days like that, Dream would stand up, dust himself off, and sit on his swing, staring blankly in front of him, letting his mind wander to somewhere nicer.

_Letting his mind wander to a warm house, familiar voices echoing down the hall as he takes his shoes off, laughter ringing in his ears, the warmth from a fire filling his bones and he can’t help but smile because Dream knows once he turns this corner he’ll see-)_

He doesn’t move from that spot for hours, on the bad days.

But not every day was bad.

Some of the days were so, so good.

He would wake up, and any anxiety he had felt, any lingering feeling of _they all hate you they’re looking for you no one is coming they don’t care at all this is your fault they want you dead they’re better off without you-_ is forgotten, and he can continue on with his day, his mind clear and his heart light.

He would spend days like that next to the river, or walking through the woods, humming as he went on with his day, just basking in the warmth of the sun, listening to the sounds of the woods.

The bad days were horrible, but the good days, the days where he felt like maybe, just maybe he could keep going on like this, those days made it all worth it.

Today was a good day.

Or it had been.

Dream had woken up smiling, his sleep dreamless, sparing him from the demented faces of his friends his mind would trap him in night after night.

He stretched as he sat up, and let out a small sigh of relief at the lack of pain, neither his leg nor his wrist acting any different than usual. No annoying stiffness or searing agony, no phantom pains from wounds long healed.

He cooked two eggs he had collected from his chickens the day before, a simple breakfast, but one he had always enjoyed.

_(“Dream!” a voice called out from somewhere in the market. Dream whipped his head around, placing the apple he was inspecting back as he tried to find the speaker._

_“Oh my god Dream! Fancy- huh, fancy seeing you here!” Dream saw Fundy running towards him, out of breath and chest heaving. He braced his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, smiling up at the blonde despite his struggle._

_“Hello Fundy,” Dream said, smile showing slightly from behind the mask. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”_

_“You know me,” the hybrid said, standing up to his full height, still a couple inches shorter than Dream, “always looking for something new! I was bored, so I thought I’d check out the marketplace!”_

_“Well,” Dream said, offering his arm out to the other man, his smile only growing, “if you’re not busy, care to help me?”_

_Fundy smiled up at him, gladly accepting his arm, falling in step with Dream easily._

_“I would love to!”)_

He ate quietly, a book he had found in an abandoned bag a couple weeks ago in the woods laid out in front of him, absent-mindedly flipping the pages every couple of minutes.

It was some fantasy novel. Incredibly cheesy and totally fake. But it was fun to read. He enjoyed how unreal it all felt. How far away it was from the real world.

Once Dream had finished his breakfast, he marked his page in the book and stood up, brushing any crumbs from his meal off of his skirt, a newer addition to his closet.

He had spent hours working on new clothes recently. The skirt he wore now was the most recent creation. It fell just above his ankles, swishing gently against his legs with every step. It was comfortable and he could move freely in it, and if wearing a skirt made him smile more than anything had in the past months, who was there to see it? It even had pockets!

_He worried, sometimes, about what the others would say if they saw him. Would they laugh at him? At everything he had worked so hard to achieve. Would they mock his futile efforts at living life as a new man? Could he ever repent for the sins of his past, of his old life?_

_Could Dream ever run fast enough to escape what he so desperately never wanted to face?_

He tidied up his table, placing his plate in the sink and putting his book on the table of the main room. He would read more later that day, so there was no point in putting it away now.

It was a good day today, and Dream wanted to take advantage of it.

Grabbing a small leather bag, small letters carved into it, spelling out ‘DREAM’ from where he had wanted to sign it, wanted people to know it was _his,_ Dream slung it over his shoulder, grabbing an apple and a water bottle, pacing them gently in the pouch after wrapping the apple in a cloth napkin.

Grabbing the strap of the bag with one hand, Dream made his way out of the house, heading towards the woods that lay beyond.

He walked deep into the woods, soft grass and twigs crunching beneath his bare feet as he walked, the plants tickling his skin lightly with each step.

His mind began to drift as he walked, the steady rhythm of his steps, the slight off beat caused by his limp lulling him into a state of calm, his body relaxing the further he got into the woods.

A tune surfaced in his mind, and Dream began to hum as he walked, his voice quiet and scratchy at the lack of use in the past months, but the familiar sound was calming all the same.

_(“Where did you learn this?” Dream asked, sitting on the edge of the tower, his legs swinging beneath him as he turned to look at the person beside him._

_Eret stopped humming and faced Dream, tilting their head slightly as they considered the question._

_“My mother sang it to me as a kid. Ever since I was a baby. Said it would always calm me down, no matter how distressed I got.”_

_Dream hummed in acknowledgement, turning to face the world below them, L’Manberg a distant speck, barely recognisable from this distance._

_He looked at the ground below him. The distance from where he sat on the ledge to the earth below, and he thought about how much it would hurt if he were just to slip off the edge, letting himself fall freely. What if he-_

_Dream was snapped out of his thoughts as he felt a hand grab his, a body pressing up against his own, radiating warmth in the cool night air._

_“I think the stars are lovely,” Eret said, tilting their head up towards the sky._

_Dream had no choice but to copy them, watching the stars shimmering ever so slightly, noting the different constellations peppering the night sky. They shone with something Dream couldn’t quite place, but he found his thoughts slowly drifting from the earth below him, to the stars shining brightly above._

_“They are, aren’t they?” Dream questioned, not expecting an answer._

_Eret said nothing, they just held his hand tighter, and began to hum.)_

Dream was brought back to his body by a rustling sound in the distance. He blinked, and looked at the trees around him, none of them familiar.

The setting sun was casting a warm glow on the woods around him, bathing everything in a soft pink light.

_The setting sun?_

It had been morning when he left for his walk, the sun still high in the sky as midday approached. He hadn’t planned on being out for more than two hours.

How long had it _been?_

Dream stopped walking, fully taking in his surroundings. 

A better question would be _where the fuck is he?_

He heard the shuffling sound again, closer this time, and Dream felt his shoulders tensing, his hands instinctively going for a weapon he wasn’t carrying, hadn’t thought to carry since he wasn’t supposed to be gone this long or be this far from home or-

A twig snapped 20 feet away, and the sound of voices filled the air.

_Familiar voices._

Dream’s body froze in place at the sound of his once best friends’ voices calling out. He tried to force himself to run, to hide, to do something, anything, but it refused to listen, staying stubbornly in place.

_(God he was so sick of being helpless, left to the mercy of his own body, forced to watch as his wrist locked in place, dropping whatever he had been holding. He hated the feeling of all of his muscles freezing, unable to move a finger, unable to get out.)_

He was standing there for what felt like years but was only seconds, until suddenly-

Suddenly.

_suddenly_

A hand pushes the leaves aside, and a familiar face _(so familiar it hurts he’s right there he hates you you love him he doesn’t want to see you he shouldn’t have to see you)_ pokes through.

Their eyes meet, and time seems to stop.

There. In front of him.

_George._

Dream hears Sapnap complain about his sudden stop from behind George, and oh he could just cry at that, because he _knows that tone of voice, he’s whining because Dream ran ahead of him and he can’t catch up, he knows that voice because he’s heard it in his dreams, screaming at him, calling him a monster, a failure, a fuckup, a-_

Sapnap has finally pushed his way next to George, mid complaint at how _George and his fat ass are blocking the path for the rest of us humble adventurers_

He freezes as well, eyes locking on Dream, sentence forgotten as his mouth hangs open.

They all stand there, staring at each other. None of them daring to make a move, none of them wanting to break the silence.

George takes a step forward, his hands held out in front of him, as if he were taming a wild animal, his eyes wide, and he opens his mouth and in the softest voice that seems to scream in Dreams ears, he says,

“Dream?”

That one word is enough to snap Dream out of whatever shock he was in, and suddenly he was running, back the way he came, twigs and stones digging into his bare feet, drawing blood, but that didn’t matter right now, because all Dream had to do was _get out._

He heard the surprised shouts of the other two coming from behind him. They were yelling for him, no at him. Begging him to stay, to wait, to just _fucking stop,_ but Dream couldn’t stop. He had to keep running and running and running because life was some fucking cruel joke and no matter how far he ran it always seemed to get the last laugh.

He wasn’t sure if he was Dream running through the woods from Sapnap and George, bare feet pounding on the dirt, his skirt, the skirt he had been so fucking proud of, tearing on branches and getting stained with mud and blood, getting tangled between his legs the faster he ran.

Suddenly though, he was Dream with half a heart, stumbling his way through the woods in the dead of night, the ghosts of his past mistakes trailing behind him, and the friendships now broken trailing behind him as he ran, forcing himself faster and faster despite how much it hurt. Oh god it hurt please just let him stop-

_(Or was he Dream, laughing as his friends chased after him, trying desperately to catch him before he could win._

_He could hear George’s outraged cries as Dream slipped from his grasp yet again, could hear Sapnap groan in frustration as Dream jumped up just out of his reach._

_He could hear Bad, a small cry of ‘Get him, you muffins!’ as Dream ran off, leaving the three hunters behind, his mind already racing three steps ahead.)_

Dream didn’t know where he was, but he knew he was running, and that was enough for him.

George and Sapnap were fast, there was no doubt, but Dream had always been faster.

They didn’t stand a chance. Dream, even in his panic riddled state, pleading cries falling on deaf ears as he ran, focused on getting as far away as fast as possible, was lost in the foliage, the sounds of his footsteps quickly fading as he ran further and further, leaving his two best friends out of breath, standing in the woods, matching looks of shock plastered onto their faces.

By the time Dream stumbled back onto his plot of land, night had fallen, shadows cast behind him from the glow of the torches lighting up his home.

He pushed his door open, slamming it shut behind him and sliding down it, curling up into a ball once he hit the floor, fingers twisting into his hair painfully.

Now that he was home, the two men left behind hours ago, Dream could feel the adrenaline wearing off, and the pain hit him all at once.

His thigh was screaming at him, pure agony with every movement, his muscles aching and sweat dripping down his brow.

Dream’s feet were bloody and torn, skin ripped off in different places, sending waves of pain up his already sore legs every time they pressed into the floor.

There were a couple more scratched along his arms and face, from where stray branches had nicked him in his desperate bid to escape.

Dream’s breathing quickened. He was suffocating. He was trapped. He was locked in, with nowhere to go, and he was drowning in it all. There was nothing he could do.

George and Sapnap had seen him. They had looked at him, and he just stood there and looked back, like a fucking idiot. He just _stood there._

Why were they there? What business did they have, this far into the SMP, this deep into the woods rarely travelled? 

What were they going to do now?

Were they going to run back to the SMP, screaming of the monster they’d seen in the woods? Would they gather the others, leading the charge as they stormed the forest, burning down and trampling and ruining everything he had worked so hard to call his? Would they take away everything he had built in these past months? Taking his second chance and ripping it up right in front of him, letting it’s ashes fall to the ground as he was helpless to do anything other than watch.

Would they care?

Would they just mark off this area of the woods as useless? Unimportant? Ensure that no one else would ever travel here, before leaving for good themselves?

Would they, would they would they wouldtheywouldtheywouldtheywouldthey-

_Would they ever want him to come home?_

It was all too much. Everything he had fought so hard to build was crumbling around him, it was suffocating him and Dream couldn’t breathe-

He gripped the sides of his porcelain mask, pulling it away from his face, the leather straps holding it in place snapping beneath his force.

He held it tightly in shaking hands, staring at the mocking smile, the crack splitting it down the middle.

Dream looked at the mask, felt his grip tighten around it, and with one heave he lifted his hand.

His mask flew across the room, impacting the wall with a sickening crack, the sound of clay shattering following right after.

Dream couldn’t hold back his sobs any longer. He stared at the shattered pieces of his mask, sitting innocently on the floor across from him.

He had shattered, his chest heaving with the force of each sob, the pain from his leg as he shook only making him cry harder. His face was stained with tears, and he didn’t even bother trying to wipe them away.

_(The memory of the ground below him surfacing in the back of his mind._

_There were no stars above him now, What was stopping him from sliding off that ledge? There was no one here to hold his hand, no one to sing to him as he fell apart._

_What was stopping him from taking that final step?_

_Familiar faces flashed in his mind. Their smiles wide, and eyes caring._

_He looked back up. The stars were dim, but they still hung in the sky, and that was enough for now.)_

Dream wasn’t sure how long he sat there, sobs wracking his body as he held himself, nails digging into his arms so tightly they drew blood.

Once his tears slowed to a stop, and Dream could catch his breath, he stood up, eyes staring forward, his mind, for once, quiet.

He walked over to his bed numbly, walking past the shattered pile of porcelain without a second glance.

Dream curled up on his bed, his arms hugging himself tighter, some semblance of comfort, as he drifted off to sleep, his mind going blissfully blank.

* * *

Back in L’Manberg, two men walked into the community house, their faces still in shock, lungs burning as they fought to catch their breath.

Multiple people turned from what they were doing to look at the pair, their eyes wild and bodies tense.

On that night, the two men brought news of an old friend, once thought lost, finally found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go babey!! I actually really like how this chapter turned out!
> 
> And, whats this?? A semblance of plot??? In MY cottagecore fic???? Unheard of.
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter, and if you enjoyed please consider dropping a comment/kudos because they fuel me!
> 
> You can find me @ caydiink on instagram aswell if you're interested!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	6. self reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHAT!! WE HAVE A BETA NOW!! Silver offered to be the beta for this story, so thank you so much!!!
> 
> This chapter was kinda difficult to rite, but i think it turned out well in the end!!
> 
> Dream is still feeling the effects of his meeting in the woods, and thinks about everything that's happened.

It had been a week since he had been seen, and Dream had only left his house twice.

It had taken three days for Dream to finally force himself up and out of the door, wincing at the harsh sunlight that blinded him for a moment. He stumbled his way over to where his animals were kept, walking as far from the river as possible, and he fed the animals, adding in some extra food to makeup for the three days he forgot.

Guilt gripped his stomach, it happened so fast he had to lean against a fence for support, trying his best not to vomit. He had forgotten to feed the animals he cared for so much for three fucking days.

What kind of sick monster does that?

He was fooling himself, believing he could change. He hadn’t gotten any better, now he was just horrible and alone.

At least no one else had to put up with him now.

_And it’s so obvious they don’t want to. It’s been a week and there’s been no sign of anyone else even attempting to find you. Even when you went back to that spot, more cautiously and hidden in the shadows, there was no one there, no one even in the area. They hate you and they’re glad you’re gone._

Dream had formed his land, his home, in hopes that everyone could get along. He hadn’t wanted to fight anymore than he already had, he just wanted to rest, with his friends at his side and his family at his back.

He just wanted a _family._

But then Wilbur and Tommy had started their drug van, and their family became a lot less warm.

He asked them to stop, and when they wouldn’t listen he told them to stop, and when they wouldn’t listen he warned them to stop,

_and when they wouldn’t listen-_

Well. He had warned them.

He had never wanted the war. That was as far from what he wanted as possible, in fact.

His family, split down the middle, at each other’s necks, and over what?

A stupid fucking drug van?

 _But it was never_ really _about the drug van. It was about them not listening to him, splitting his family in two. They spread tales of his villainy and suddenly his friends who he had considered his family were turning against him, calling for his blood. He had just wanted a home, why couldn’t they see that? Why did they have to take this_ ione _thing away from him?_

He hadn’t wanted L’Manberg to exist. He didn’t want to split everyone up. Yes, L’Manberg just wanted independence, but how long would that last? Truthfully? How long until Wilbur wanted more and more and it was something Dream just couldn’t give him.

War was inevitable, it was only a matter of time.

And god, it fucking hurt. Stepping onto the battlefield every day, watching his friends bare their teeth at him, call him a monster, a villain, a bastard, anything they had the breath to spit at him they would.

But if Dream’s being honest, nothing hurt more than seeing Tubbo in that war, his face hard and looking as far from the sixteen year old Dream knew and loved.

It was war though, and no man can escape it, no matter how far they run.

Dream hated himself for looking at Tubbo in those fights, and, for just a brief moment, feeling _pride._

Dream shouldn’t fucking feel proud of a brother forced to fight in a war he had started. He shouldn’t smile, watching Tubbo fight for his life and win. 

Tubbo shouldn’t have to fight at all. But Dream just couldn’t stop himself from taking everything a step too far, and look at where it’s gotten his family.

_(Dream sits in a tree, his legs dangling freely and his hands gripping the branch he’s sitting on slightly tighter than necessary. The phantom grip of a hand squeezing his lingers on his skin._

_He can hear footsteps racing towards him, and Dream waits in anticipation, a smile slowly slipping onto his face,_

_“Dream!”_

_He hears the familiar voice he had missed oh so much. Dream leapt from the branch, landing soundly on his feet, and ignored the yelp from the shorter man as he pulled his brother into a hug._

_Tubbo gladly accepts his embrace, his hands gripping the back of his sweater tightly, as if he didn’t hold on hard enough, Dream would slip through the cracks like sand._

_Sometimes, that’s what it felt like had already happened._

_But then, other times, he would listen to his friends in their house, voices loud and spirits high, and he would think maybe, just maybe, he could put himself together._

_If not for himself, then for them._

_Dream pulls back, looking at every inch of Tubbo’s face for any signs of injury. Tubbo just laughs, pushing playfully at the hands gripping his cheeks._

_“I’m fine Dream, really! I promise nothing bad has happened,” Tubbo says with a laugh, bright smile finally breaking through Dream’s concern._

_“I just had to make sure Bee, you know Eret would have my head if anything happened to you,” Dream said, ruffling his brother’s hair and shoving him slightly, laughing at the way he spluttered in disbelief, shoving Dream in retaliation._

_The war hasn’t started yet, but there are whispers of_ something _shifting in the air, the words that were once teasing but never cruel take on a harder edge._

_Things were changing, and everyone knew why._

_Dream savoured his meetings with his brothers. He knew he wouldn’t be able to continue them if war broke out._

_He couldn’t risk Wilbur taking either of them for a traitor._

_It hurt, knowing that both of his brothers would be fighting against him, that they already were._

_But at least, this way, he could make sure they stayed safe in the fights. He could give them time to run when they needed it, and purposefully stay clear of them on the battlefield._

_And if, by chance, he steps into the line of fire, taking an arrow or a sword to the back or shoulder, well, no one would know._

_No one except his brothers, with wide eyes filled with worry, and the apologies shouted from whoever had been unlucky enough to aim for his family.)_

At least now, with everyone rallying against him, they can be whole again.

His family is back together, even if it means he isn’t a part of it.

Dream hopes Tubbo and Eret are okay. He hopes they forget about him, and move on with their lives. Accepting that he had never been worth the effort, and finding comfort in each other, at the loss of their third member.

 _A more selfish part of him hopes that they think he can still be saved. That even if no one else cares, they come looking for him. That maybe, they could be a family again, just the three of them. That maybe he wouldn’t be_ alone-

It was a dumb hope. Dream stopped thinking about it.

_But he couldn’t stop dreaming about it, no matter how hard he tried._

The only other time Dream had left his house in the past week, was the previous night.

He had bolted up on his bed, hands shaking as the remains of his nightmare fled, the adrenaline fading fast. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he just had to get out.

He shoved the blanket off, and walked out the door, his pants swishing gently as he left.

Dream closed the door behind him, and turned to look up at his house.

It wasn’t that high, he’d be fine.

Taking a deep breath, and rolling his shoulders, Dream took a running leap at the side of his house, determination set in his face.

His fingers gripped the edge of his roof, and Dream held on, ignoring the way his wrist flared up in pain. He planted his feet on the side of his house, and pulled himself up quickly onto the roof.

Dream wasn’t sure why he had come up here, but he just couldn’t handle being in that house, surrounded by wooden walls on all sides, the door blocked and yelling outside and-

The stars had always calmed him down.

He laid back, his head resting on the tough wood, and he looked up, staring at the night sky above him.

It was an endless void, stars shining as far as the eye could see.

That was the one thing he enjoyed about his new home compared to living in the SMP. The stars were so much clearer out here, no light to pollute the air. It was just him and them.

Everything was so much brighter without the mask, and the stars seemed to shine even brighter, contrasting nicely with the dark of the night sky.

If Dream shut his eyes and thought hard enough, he could almost feel the ghost of two warm bodies pressed against his on either side, keeping him warm.

_(Dream watched the two figures stumbling up to him, paranoia evident in their faces, and their bodies tensed, always ready for a fight._

_It was the only way to live now. Constantly on guard, ready for anything._

_Dream saw his siblings get closer, and before he knew it they were all kneeling in the grass under the night sky, holding onto each other as if they were all they had left._

_“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse and body trembling, “I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t want any of this.”_

_The other two shushed him, pulling him closer, a comforting hand finding its way to his hair, running their fingers through it gently._

_“We know,” Eret said, their voice soothing him gently, “it isn’t your fault Dream. You couldn’t have predicted this.”_

_He could, though. He_ had. _But he had kept going anyways, ignoring the consequences, ignoring everything telling him to stop, to just let it go._

_He had always been impulsive though. It was one of his greatest strengths, and had helped him survive countless times over the years._

_It was also going to be his greatest downfall._

_The three siblings stayed like that for an hour, just holding each other, whispering comforts into the cool night air, no one around to witness this moment of vulnerability._

_When Tubbo had finally fallen asleep in the embrace, Eret gently picked him up after giving Dream one last hug, staring at his mask, regret in their eyes._

_“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Eret said, smiling sadly at their brother, gripping Tubbo tighter in their arms, “but please remember, even though we’re on different sides, I still think of you as my family.”_

_And with that final statement, Eret turned and walked back the way they came, Tubbo held in his grasp, his two siblings heading back to the home they built._

_Dream stood in the field, alone, nothing but the stars shining mockingly above him.)_

On the eighth day, Dream woke up from a restless sleep, and went through his daily routine.

Make breakfast. Sit at the table in silence as he ate half of it, the other half used as compost for his crops, because he feels bad wasting anything now.

Today though, after placing his plate on the table, Dream went into the main room, rummaging through his chests from a moment, before finding what he was looking for.

He pulled out a notebook he had made himself, the paper made on a whim a couple of months ago when he got bored, and bound with leather he had harvested himself.

He had never written anything in it though. He had sat in front of it, quill in hand, but never actually put anything down on the paper. He had never known what he wanted to say.

That changed today.

Placing it on the table next to his plate, Dream took a couple bites of his food, before dipping his quill in the inkpot resting next to him, and bega to write.

His quill scratched frantically across the surface as he wrote and crossed out countless different letters, different notes to each of his friends, things he wanted to say, so, so badly, but he just couldn’t find the words for.

The first paper grew into five pages, which grew into twelve, until he had filled at least a third of the journal with scratched out letters, confessions dying mid sentences, please for mercy, for forgiveness, for help, torn from the book and thrown onto the floor behind him.

Dream sat there for hours, his hand cramping from how hard he was holding the quill, but still, he kept writing. His mostly uneaten breakfast lay cold and forgotten on the plate next to him.

He knew no one was ever going to read these. But he still couldn’t find it in himself to finish any of the letters he started. He would explain what he’d done, tell them he was sorry, but it never felt like enough.

Dream crossed out the most recent passage he had written, tears of frustration leaking from his eyes as he squeezed them shut, dripping onto the page below him.

He grabbed fistfuls of his hair in his hand, tugging at it, leaving his scalp stinging.

What kind of idiot couldn’t write a fucking letter.

**_i miss you all so much. please let me back, i can be good. i miss you i miss people i miss everything. please, it’s so cold. i think im dying. i just want to know you’re okay, just one look and i’ll leave again i promise._ **

**_please, let me come home._ **

He slammed the journal shut, throwing at the wall across the room, not caring where it fell. Dream stood up angrily, kicking the crumpled up papers that lay at his feet aside, storming out of the house, a scream resting on the tip of his tongue.

Dream made his way to the river, dropping heavily to his knees at the edge of the bank, gripping the ledge tightly, dirt finding its way beneath his unkempt nails.

He stared at his reflection in the water, the absence of his mask, his only form of protection startling the anger from his system for just a moment.

His face looked tired. The angry scars that littered his face standing out starkly from his pale skin, bright green eyes studying every inch of his freckled face.

Dream could remember where each and every scar came from, even if he so badly wished he wouldn’t.

He traced the scar that went from just below his left eyebrow down to the middle of his right cheek. It was the most recent one, the feeling of a sword cutting through his face still lingering late at night, the sound of porcelain shattering still ringing in his ears.

_(The duel with Techno had been fun, in Dream’s opinion. He had never gotten to fight that way, without fear for his life, or fear for other peoples’ lives._

_There was a comfort, in knowing that he didn’t have to hold back, to pull his punches so he wouldn’t hurt or kill one of his friends, that he and Techno both knew what they were doing, and weren’t here to kill each other, but to challenge each other, to compete. For fun._

_And boy was adrenaline one hell of a drug._

_The entire fight had been a blur, shouts from the audience egging him and Techno on, both of them grinning ear to ear as they fought, laughter erupting in his chest as he dodged a swing from Techno’s sword._

_Dream’s eyes shut momentarily, backing up to take another swing, but that one moment was all it took._

_He had seen the swing coming a moment too late, and suddenly all he could feel was the sting of a blade cutting through his skin, and cool air hitting his now exposed face._

_The sound of his mask hitting the ground echoed through the now silent stadium, the crowd falling silent as they watched what had just happened._

_Dream stumbled backwards, landing on his ass as he tried to push himself further away from the threat, the feeling of warm blood running down his face not unfamiliar._

_Frozen in shock, he stared up into the surprised face of his rival, his sword now limp at his side. No one moved, time seemingly stopped._

_And then suddenly Dream was scrambling to push himself up with one hand, the other pulling his hood low over his face, covering up the old scars, his old failures._

_Dream ran from the room, silence mixing with the regret heavy in the air.)_

A fist lashed out, slamming into the water and disrupting the surface, his reflection scattering into small droplets as Dream sobbed, tears steadily flowing from his eyes, mixing into the river below.

It wasn’t _fucking fair,_ Dream thought as he screamed, a weak sound, tearing it’s way up through his raw throat, leaving it aching in its wake.

The sound echoed through the woods around him, the sound of birds flying away falling on deaf ears.

Dream hit the water again and again, water hitting his _(exposed exposed you’re exposed they can use that against you-)_ face, the feeling all too reminiscent of the blood that would spray across him on the battlefield.

He sat there until the night fell, and only then, long after the water had dried but the feeling still remained, his hands stained red with blood that lay limply in his lap, his heart heavy with regret and lungs drowning in guilt, only when he heaved his final sob and his chest could finally draw in air, did Dream stand up.

He looked back at the river, his face staring up at him, always looking up, at the stars, at the cliff, at the drop, at everything he could’ve been.

Dream looks himself in the eye, at the stones beneath the surface, and heads back into his home, his bones weary with exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there we go!! Thank you again to Silver for editing this and helping me out!!
> 
> I wanted to have a POV switch to L'Manberg at the end, but I felt like the chapter was getting too long and i wanted to get it out today, so I didn't get to put it in. But!! Stay tuned for next chapter, there's gonna be a lot of that ;))
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!! The comments on my last chapter were SO NICE!! Y'ALL ARE INSANE IM <333
> 
> If you like this chapter pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc i adore reading the comments!!!
> 
> If you're interested you can find me on insta @caydiink


	7. it's rewind time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the chapter!!! i wrote this all in one sitting and it kinda shows, but also i'm so happy with how it turned out!!
> 
> I got the idea for this chapter from BlindJaysFlight, so thank you for commenting your suggestion!!
> 
> there are hints of Fundy/Dream in this chapter, just a heads up. Nothing is explicit but like, it's kinda implied!
> 
> And again, thank you SO MUCH to Silver for being the beta of this fic!! you helped me edit so much <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

**The first month.**

Tensions were high, after Dream had left. Everyone in the SMP was tense, waiting for his inevitable return. Waiting for him to burst through their walls (which would have been doing them a favour, if they were honest) with an army at his heels, ready to take back his land by force.

No one slept much, and what little sleep they did get was restless, filled with thoughts of what ifs, nightmares of the person they had worked so hard to take down coming back full force.

It wasn’t something anyone wanted, but it was something they all expected.

So when three weeks had passed and no sign of the man was found, it concerned them.

George was a big enough man to admit that, despite it all, he didn’t want Dream dead.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted. He wanted Dream brought to justice, he wanted an explanation, a fucking apology, anything-

But never Dream dead.

As much as he felt like he should want it, like he _had_ to want it, he just couldn’t. Maybe it made him weak, or maybe it made him kind. Either way, it was how he felt.

And as far as they had drifted apart, George prided himself in knowing the masked man well, having been friends for years. He knew how Dream thought. And Dream shouldn’t be giving up this easily. George _knew_ him, they were _best friends for god’s sake-_

But then again, maybe George didn’t know Dream as well as he thought he did.

By the fourth week, the mood began to shift. It had been a month, and still no sign of Dream. Not even a whisper.

Not a single soul had seen the man for weeks.

They hadn’t found a body, either.

But Dream had disappeared before. Yes, admittedly never for this long, but still, an argument could be made for him staying away for longer this time. The entire server was out for the man’s blood after all.

Well. Not the entire server. But no one needed to know that.

People began to relax, the nighttime watches dwindling from four people at a time, down to two people, until no one felt the need to keep constant watch over the server.

No one knew where Dream was, but it was obvious at this point that he wasn’t planning on retaliating any time soon.

George could remember the sting of betrayal, cold in his gut, as his best friend revoked his kingship, tearing it all away mere days after it was given to him.

He had been humiliated and angry and scared and hurt, but he had never wanted this. George was still mad at everything Dream had done, everything he had said to him, but he had wanted to fix things eventually. Once Dream got off his high horse and realised his power had never meant anything.

He had wanted the chance to speak with Dream, to hear him apologize, to start over. He wanted his _best friend back goddamit-_

But now he’d never have that chance. Never have the chance to tell Dream that he didn’t hate him, that he never could, that he misses him, that he _has_ missed him for weeks, months even.

It was impossible now. His friend miles away, unknown to anyone on the server except the man in question.

George would find himself staring off in the direction Dream ran at times, just stopping wherever he was stood and staring. Praying that maybe, if he looked hard enough he could catch a glimpse of green, a flash of the familiar white mask-

Anything that confirmed his once best friend was still alive.

Not that George cared though. If anyone asked him, he was glad the green bastard was gone.

**The second month.**

Eret didn’t know how to feel. They had never been faced with a problem like this before. They weren’t entirely sure how to move forward.

People were mad, themself included. But there was that small voice in the back of their head, the voice that sounded slightly too much like Dream for it to just be a coincidence. 

The voice that said _think of how scared he must be. All alone in a world too large for one man. You had always been there beside him, making everything a little less scary. He doesn’t have you now though._

_He doesn’t have **anyone.**_

But that was Dream’s fault, no one else’s. He was the one who pushed them all away, the one who always took everything just a step too far in the wrong direction. 

Eret understood, they really did. They knew Dream wore a mask to hide from himself, but he also wore it to hide himself from others. His eyes that revealed too much, and his smile he couldn’t control, the tears he was never able to hide.

Eret knew that Dream felt so much, and that he couldn’t stop it. But god, if they didn’t wish he’d found a better way of letting it all out.

If Dream had come to them, if he had told Eret how he felt, Eret would have dropped anything for him. Because that’s what family did.

But Dream locked himself away from everyone, whatever he may be feeling hidden behind the layer of porcelain, staring down at them all with that plastered smile.

Eret sometimes wondered if Dream chose a smile to put on the mask to cover up for how little he actually would smile.

But there was no use thinking about it now. Not when it’s been seven weeks and there’s been no sign of Dream anywhere.

It was ominous. It scared Eret, they weren’t ashamed to admit it. Dream was a scary person. Anyone who denied that fact was either an idiot or Techno.

No one knew where the man had gone, or what he was doing. And that was never, _ever,_ a good thing when it came to Dream.

Eret shared that same sentiment with everyone on the server, but for slightly different reasons.

Yes, Eret knew that theoretically Dream could be plotting his revenge. Gathering up soldiers to fight the war for him. Collecting supplies to help him last even longer in the next fight.

But he wouldn’t. It wasn’t his style. Dream wouldn’t fight unless he felt he had too. They had seen him in that final fight. Caught glimpses of him through the carnage and the bodies, all aiming for one individual, through the weapons flying and the blood spraying.

Eret had seen how tense Dream was. They could see the reluctance behind every swing, the way his shoulders were drawn and teeth were bared like an animal backed into a corner, with no way out but through.

But what Eret did know was that, when left to his devices, left alone with his thoughts, it wouldn’t take long for Dream to self-destruct. _Especially_ after the way he left.

Eret didn’t know where Dream was, or what he was thinking, or if he was safe, and that terrified them.

Dream was alone. There was no one beside him to hold his hand as he sat on the ledge, to guide his eyes to the stars, to the hope of something brighter, a better day, something to live for.

If their friends hadn’t killed Dream in that final battle, there was nothing to reassure Eret that Dream wouldn’t finish the job himself.

But there wasn’t anything Eret could do. They couldn’t hold Dream in their arms and comfort him, or pull him away from that ledge.

Despite their title and their crown, Eret was powerless.

_(And it felt all too similar to when he had been dethroned.)_

They stood at the top of their tower, looking out into the forest that lay at the edge of their property, and they prayed to any god who may be listening.

**The third month.**

Things had gone back to normal. Or as normal as they could be.

If Tommy was being honest, things were _better_ now.

Everyone was closer together, the fight against Dream bringing them all to one spot, united them against one enemy, brought them together when nothing else seemed to be able to.

Tommy hated Dream, but he could at least thank the man for bringing his family back together.

After being let back into L’Manberg, a very tearful reunion with Tubbo, and his cheeks sore from smiling as everyone else hugged him, welcoming him back with open arms, Tommy kept living with Philza and Techno.

All three of them had moved into Philza’s house, Ghostbur floating in when he pleased.

It was nice. He was the happiest he had felt in months.

The server had mostly forgotten about Dream, his name rarely brought up in conversation, and when it was, the sentences were short and stilted, no one truly wanting to think about what he had done.

Or what he had been through.

But Tommy didn’t really care. He would’ve been fine to never see that son of a bitch ever again.

_(He ignored the part of him that screamed he was a liar. The part of him that missed the man he was before everything went to shit._

_And even the part of him that missed the man he was after.)_

Tommy was just glad to have his life back. He could see his friends, his family, anyone he wanted to any time he wanted to! He could go outside whenever he wanted, no one telling him what to do or where to go.

He wasn’t alone in that campsite, no one to talk to but Dream, the one thing that kept him from going mad on his own, no matter how cruel he may have been.

Tommy had seen his mask slipping near the end. The way his hands would clench and his muscles tense and he would cut off mid sentence before leaving abruptly. 

It didn’t concern him though. Whatever troubles the man had, he probably deserved.

_(He could remember hanging out with Dream, fucking around and doing nothing in particular. The way the man would laugh at anything he said, his wheeze ringing in the air and Tommy couldn’t help but join in._

_He remembered how maybe, just maybe, Tommy felt like he had three brothers instead of two.)_

But no one brought Dream up anymore, so he didn’t find any reason to either.

**The fourth month.**

Fundy had thought that, after everything they had been through, the wars, the dates, the countless talks in the woods late at night, even though they were on separate sides they would still cling to each other’s hands as if it were the last thing either of them had left, that he knew Dream.

Boy, was he wrong.

Fundy watched as Dream fell further and further, as he spiraled down, far away from the man he had once known, turning into something else entirely.

Fundy would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked at Dream, seen his smile peeking out from beneath his mask, teeth bared and looking nothing like the soft smile he would give Fundy beneath the moonlight. That he hadn’t seen the way Dream walked or heard the way he spoke, and it didn’t remind him of Schlatt.

Fundy was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them.

The whole situation was all too familiar, and watching one man gain this much power, this much status in such a short amount of time, he knew that history was destined to repeat itself.

And as always, things fell apart spectacularly. Everything falling to pieces with a bang.

He couldn’t stand to meet up with Dream anymore. He hadn’t truly spoken to the man in months before the fight had happened. They just never seemed to be in the right place or the right time.

And if Fundy actively avoided the man, ignoring his messages to meet him out in the woods late at night, could anyone really blame him?

There was no denying though that sometimes late at night, watching the moon rise from the window of his home, he could still feel a strong, scarred hand holding his, and in his dreams he could feel a warm breath on his neck as he heard that voice in his ear.

The feeling was gone as soon as he woke up, and Fundy’s thoughts would never linger on it for too long, choosing to push away the past, and instead focus on the future.

**The fifth month.**

There wasn’t a single fight Techno ever regretted. If he ever drew his blade on anyone, or swung at someone with his fists, well, then they obviously deserved it.

That was what he told himself after every single fight. But for some reason, it just wasn’t helping him after this last one.

Techno knew Dream had done awful things, had witnessed them himself, But still, watching every single person on the SMP fighting against him, surrounding him as he tried in vain to defend himself from all of them.

It just didn’t sit right with Techno.

But no one else seemed bothered by what had happened, or if they did they didn’t show it, so Techno decided that he wasn’t bothered by it either.

_(He ignored the sound of shattering porcelain that echoed in his mind, and the way Dream rushed to hide his face as he pushed himself further and further away._

_He ignored how he could still hear the wood splintering as he slammed his shoulder into the wood of the door that separated him from his victim, growing weaker and weaker with every strike._

_None of it bothered him.)_

L’Manberg had moved on, the walls had been taken down months ago, and houses were built and rebuilt stronger than ever.

They were thriving now, everyone working together in a way they never had before.

The community house was always busy, always at least one person inside, causing chaos, most often it was Tubbo and Tommy. The two had been inseparable, ever since Tommy was allowed back in.

Everyone seemed to be ignoring the absence that hung over all of their heads, the empty position in their family glaringly obvious, but never addressed.

Well, if no one else would bring it up, then neither would he.

It’s not like it bothered him.

**The sixth month.**

Tubbo thought things were going well, all things considered.

Everyone had pitched in to help take down the walls, and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at that. It brought a smile to his face, watching everyone work together to tear down the things that had been oppressing them for weeks, the atmosphere shifting as soon as the last block was broken.

Tubbo looked up at Eret as everyone cheered, congratulating each other and embracing each other, their spirits high and chests light. He felt his cheeks flush as his sibling smiled down at him, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

He couldn’t help but notice how cold his other shoulder felt, the absence of a second hand obvious.

But Tubbo had brushed it off. He had things to do, and he couldn’t spend all of his time focusing on a man who wasn’t around anymore.

Six months later, and Tubbo still hadn’t found the time to process what had truly happened.

_(He had the time, he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to accept that maybe his brother wasn’t as kind as he had thought, or as selfless as he had made him out to be._

_That maybe, the picture of his brother in his mind was never the person he had been, just who Tubbo hoped he could **become.**_

_But other times, Tubbo would look at the faded and worn photo in his pocket, the smiling faces of two young kids looking up at him, and he couldn’t help but think that, no, Dream had been good at some point._

_He just wasn’t sure when it had changed.)_

It had been six months. They had all passed by in such a blur, the task of coordinating everyone on the server, arranging the rebuilding and the expanding of their country was a difficult task, and he was grateful he had friends by his side to help him through it all.

But there was a lull in the work, and Tubbo finally had a moment to himself. Nothing else to ~~distract him~~ require his attention.

No one had said anything, _especially_ not to him or Eret, but that all made it worse, somehow.

Tubbo didn’t want to pretend his brother didn’t exist. That he had never been here to begin with. Because, for better or for worse, none of them would be where they were today without him.

He didn’t want to forget the man his brother had been.

_(He remembers Dream as a kid. Protecting him as they ran through fields, taking hits for him as mobs drew nearer and all they could do was run._

_He remembers Dream sitting beside him, listening as he would ramble on about whatever had caught his interest that day. Always adding in his own thoughts or opinions, just so Tubbo would know he was still listening, that he hadn’t tuned him out like so many others might._

_He remembers holding Dream tight, as they clutched to each other and Eret, feeling his shirt growing damp with tears but he couldn’t tell--or maybe just couldn’t remember-- who they were from._

_He remembers being made president, and the pride that radiated off of Dream as he watched him from the audience, his smile visible even beneath his mask, pushed every so slightly up so Tubbo could see._

_He remembers Dream as he was. A person, like any one of them. A person who made mistakes, a lot of them, but still, a person nonetheless.)_

Tubbo talks about him more. He brings him up in conversations, and ignores the way people tense up, side eyeing each other as he goes on about _well Dream said this…_ or _I remember this one time where Dream had…_

He didn’t care if no one else wanted to acknowledge the man. He wouldn’t let a member of his family be forgotten, no matter how far away they may be, or what things they had done.

Tubbo didn’t want everyone’s last memories of his brother to be filled with violence and bloodshed. He wanted to be able to think back to him, and remember someone he could be proud of.

He didn’t care if that made him selfish. Tubbo thought he deserved to be a little selfish.

His brother was gone, possibly dead. He thought he was allowed to be selfish, if it meant he got to remember him.

And slowly but surely, other people would speak about him. It started off small, someone mentioning him in passing, just a quick _Yeah, it was Dream and I who…_

But eventually, they started getting more elaborate. People recounting memories of the man from a better time.

_I remember this one time, I don’t even know_ how _we got there, but Dream was standing knee deep in a river, trying to catch a fish with only his hands-_

_We were sitting down together one night, and he had been telling some story, his arms flailing wildly as he spoke, and he knocked this vase off the table. I’d never seen someone move so fast in my life, I swear-_

_God, this one time, I don’t even_ know _how long ago it was, but it was a while, he looked me dead in the eye, said ‘i’m gonna be unstoppable,’ and just downed three strength potions-_

_Yeah, it was me, Dream, and Bad, I think? We were going on this big adventure, something that green bitch suggested I’m sure because it was a horrible idea, but anyways-_

_Dream and I had-_

_There was this one time where-_

_He had said-_

Tubbo had been so happy the past months, watching his friends grow closer and his country flourish, but nothing had made him happier than hearing the stories of his brother, from the people who used to proudly wear the title of his enemy.

**The seventh month.**

Sapnap missed Dream.

He was too stubborn to say it out loud, loudly stating that he was fine with the man being gone so long, that it _didn’t_ matter to him.

But when he was alone, his house shared with George too quiet and his thoughts too loud, Sapnap would admit that he missed his friend.

The man was one of his closest friends, how could he not?

Whenever a storm would hit, and rain would pound against the windows, thunder rolling in the distance, Sapnap would watch the windows, searching for any sign that Dream was out there, cold and alone, in need of assistance.

He would never see anything, and the storm would pass, the sun shining through the clouds as the earth slowly dried.

Sapnap just hoped that Dream had somewhere to stay dry in. That he was somewhere safe and warm, where he wasn’t likely to catch a cold, because even as much as he hated to admit it, to show any sign of weakness, Dream got sick far too easily.

Sapnap just wanted to see him again. To hug him, and yell at him for being an idiot, and running off for seven months with no goodbye. To scold him that, and Sapnap could only guess this was the reason, Dream somehow thought they were better off without him.

Yes, things had gotten better. Everyone was friendlier, more willing to reach out to each other, and spend the time, put in the effort to form some sort of mismatched family.

But they were _never_ better off.

He would be laughing with George and Bad, and reach over to clap Dream on the back, leaning on his friend for support, only for his hand to hit air and to stumble a couple of steps to the side, the laughter cutting off abruptly as the trio was reminded of their fourth member’s absence.

Sapnap would smile as he sat in the community house, anyone who was available gathered up for a group dinner once a month, he would look at everyone joking around and getting along.

And his gaze would linger at the empty chair placed at the head of the table. No matter how many people showed up, how many mouths they had to feed, every month, without fail, they would save a seat at the head of the table for a friend they knew would find his way back some day.

Whether it be in a week, a month or a year, it didn’t matter. They _would_ bring Dream back, whether he liked it or not.

By that point, everyone had seemed to share that thought.

It was George’s fault they had ended up as far out from the SMP as they had. He really had no clue how to read the map despite all of his insistence otherwise, and they had ended up in some woods no one had been to before, helplessly lost.

“God, George, could you be any more incompetent? We were supposed to be back in an hour, tops, and here we are, three hours out and nowhere near home.”

“God, do you ever stop complaining? I said I was sorry, what more do you want?”

“Gee, George, I dunno! Maybe to get back to our fucking house? To not be stuck in the middle of no- hey what the fuck? Why did you just stop all of a sudden?”

Sapnap shoved his way through the bush and next to George, and his heart stopped.

There, right in front of them, shoulders tense and body frozen, was-

“Dream?”

And then suddenly he was running, and the sound of him rushing through the woods was enough to get Sapnap and George to start running as well, shouting at Dream to stop, just slow down, and just _wait a fucking minute--_

His head was full of static, ears ringing and feet pounding heavily into the dirt, the exhaustion that had pulled him down having suddenly vanished at the sight of their friend.

Sapnap knew how it would end. How it had ended countless times before, in every manhunt they played, how it ended that fateful night.

That still didn’t mean he wouldn’t try his hardest.

He pushed himself until his lungs burned with every breath, and Dream’s skirt had disappeared from sight, and even then, tears wet on his face and fists clenched with the effort of chasing down their friend, did he only stop when George grabbed his wrist, forcing him to either stop running or take them both down.

He stood there, not processing anything as George spoke at him, his heart pounding in his ears, watching as George moved his mouth but no words would reach him.

Slowly, as he caught his breath, his body beginning to tremble slightly from exhaustion and anger and pain, he could hear George, voice frantic, calling for him.

“Sapnap, please oh my fucking god just say something. He’s gone, okay? We lost him, but please just say something because I’m about to freak out and-”

“We lost him,” Sapnap interrupted, his voice raw and thick with emotion, “George, George he was right there- he was _right fucking there_ and we LOST HIM!”

George pulled Sapnap close, wrapping his arms around the taller man, holding him tight, “I know, Sap, I know. But we know he’s alive, and his general area. We can’t do anything right now, but we’ll come back, and we’ll bring him home. Alright?”

Sapnap sniffed, wiping his eyes before pulling away, giving George a short nod.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll come back. Get the others to help us look and shit. Strength in numbers or whatever.”

George laughed, shoving Sapnap gently, grabbing his hand, “Yeah, idiot. Strength in numbers.”

That night, when they got back to the community house, and told everyone what they had found deep in the woods, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at everyone volunteering to head out immediately, to find their friend and bring him _home._

It would’ve been so easy for everyone to hate Dream. To be glad he was gone, and never shed a single tear over the loss. No one would have blamed them for it.

But, through some miracle of miracles, everyone just gathered around the table, the map placed on the surface in front of them, and they began to plan.

They would bring him home, where he _belonged._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there it is!! a lil look on how the L'Manberg people are feeling!! I'm definitely gonna have another chapter from their POV's, but I'm not sure when it'll be.
> 
> this is my longest chapter yet im pretty sure!! we have also officially hit 50 pages on the google doc im writing on, so thats pog >:))
> 
> Also, I have an idea for another fic I wanna write. It's basically Tommy getting exiled but Dream gets exiled along with him, so all his plans go to shit and he begrudgingly bonds w Tommy. If you'd be interested in that fic, lmk! I probably wouldn't start writing it until i was finished with this one, but ya never know!
> 
> As always, i love reading all of your comments, so if you enjoyed this chapter please consider leaving a comment/kudos!!
> 
> My instagram is @caydiink, so if you want to, feel free to check me out on there!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this chapter, i hope u enjoyed :)


	8. embroider some cloth and maybe you'll calm down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new chapter before christmas!!! just for u guys <33
> 
> it took me a lil bit to get this one started so it's a little later than the other ones have been, but i'm happy with how it turned out!!
> 
> We see what Dream is up to back in his cottage, and we get a glimpse of how he's dealing with everything going on.

Dream woke up just like any other day. He pushed the blanket off of himself, stood from his ‘bed’, and made breakfast.

It wasn’t just any other day though. He was different. Today, Dream felt like maybe, just maybe, he could make a place for himself in this new world.

_(He knew now that there was no place for him back at the SMP. No one wanted him there, and he didn’t want to be there._

_It didn’t matter that there was always a small part of him longing for George and Sapnap to find him again, to tell him it was okay to come home._

_He didn’t need any of them. He didn’t need their false promises of a second chance, not that he would ever be given one._

_He_ didn’t _need them.)_

He sat down at the table, ignoring the scraps of paper that still littered the floor, ignoring the journal that lay forgotten in the corner of the room, his eyes staying firmly on his plate.

Dream ate quickly, the food he prepared tasting like ash in his mouth as he forced it down, pushing the half eaten plate away from him.

Dream stood quickly, pulling one of the few dresses he had made out of the chest that acted as his closet, softly smiling at the way it fit, the end of the dress landing just below his knees.

The soft cloth brushed gently against his legs, and Dream thanked any god that was out there for letting his leg have a good day today. The dress made him feel comfortable, and he may have forgoed his plans for the day to just sit in his house and cry if his thigh had been irritated by the cloth.

Some days, even the slightest touch would set his leg off, sending waves of pain through the limb as he sat shivering on the floor, unable to move without starting the cycle of agony all over again. Trapped on the ground by his own body.

On those days, Dream wouldn’t do much, unable to get out of bed. Sometimes, though, if the materials were close enough, he would write.

Never anything in particular. Sometimes he would write about the pain in his leg. What it felt like. how sometimes, he would reach down to pull the arrow out of his thigh, only to sob at the realisation that nothing was there, and there was no way to alleviate the pain.

Other days he would write about his animals, and how they were faring. He had named each animal kept on his farm, and he wrote about how he tried to make them as comfortable as possible, providing them all with the best food he could, making sure they were kept warm and dry, and fed regularly.

Sometimes, he would write to the others. He would beg for their forgiveness in some pages, and curse them out on the next. He would write about each person he had wronged, and each person who had wronged him in return.

But sometimes, he would just tell them about his life. He would tell them all about his farm that had grown significantly from what it had started out as. Long gone was the small farm next to the river, a couple things of wheat, the odd carrot or potato growing in a small cluster.

It had all been replaced with rows of crops, organized in sections, every different seed he had collected planted by his own hand, tended to almost daily (if he was able to get out of bed) harvested with pride every day.

Some days, though. Some days would be _bad_ days.

Those were the days he couldn’t get out of bed, but not because of his leg or his wrist.

He would be stuck in bed, memories of his friends playing on repeat, trapping himself in his own mind, leaving him at the mercy of his memory, left to lay there and watch his past mistakes, unable to stop the onslaught.

The _bad_ days didn’t happen often, but Dream hated them all the same.

Today was a good day though. Dream could wear his dress without issue, and he didn’t have anything in particular he needed to get done. It was a day for himself.

He smoothed the fabric of his dress down, taking a deep breath before gathering up everything he would need for the day. He pulled out some fabric and his small sewing kit, tucking them underneath his arm, and he walked out of the house.

He hadn’t even made it a step out of his house when he stopped, pausing in the doorway.

There, at his feet, was a slightly beat up, dirt covered bar of iron, slight scratches visible beneath the grime.

Dream leaned down, gingerly picking up the iron bar before straightening up and looking around, trying to find any indication of where it came from.

_It couldn’t be one of his friends. They wouldn’t just leave whatever_ this _is without saying a word. They hate him. Why would they bother to find where he lived, let alone leave him a- What even was this? A gift? An offering?_

Dream turned and walked back into his house, still on edge. He placed the iron bar in one of his chests, dusting the dirt off his hand once he put it away.

It wouldn’t make sense for one of his friends to have left it here. It must have fallen out of his bag at some point, or a traveller must have dropped it while passing through.

_(Dream pushed the spark of disappointment that lit up when he saw the iron bar deep down, ignoring all of its implications.)_

Dream stepped back outside, closing the door firmly behind him. He took one last look around the clearing, checking for any threats, or anyone who may be hiding. When he decided he was alone, he headed over to his animal farm, refilling their food and making sure they were all okay.

Once he made sure they were all stocked with food and as comfortable as they could be, Dream carried his stuff over to the swing, brushing a layer of dust off of the seat that had gathered from its lack of use.

He sat himself down on the swing carefully, placing the sewing kit on the seat next to him, unfolding the strip of black cloth he had taken with him and laying it out on his lap.

Even if they didn’t want him to be a part of their family, Dream didn’t want to forget his friends. He wasn’t planning on doing anything too extravagant, but he wanted something to carry them with him, even if they didn’t want anything to do with him.

He pulled a needle and some thick white thread out of the kit. He’d had to kill a bunch of spiders to gain his collection of threads, but it had been worth it, giving him the ability to make something to remember his friends by, no matter how small it may be.

He carefully anchored the fabric on either side of a log with the center carved out, remembering Niki griping about how hard it was to embroider without any tension on the fabric.

Dream got to work immediately, starting out with a small pair of goggles embroidered on the edge of the sash. It didn’t take up too much room, but it was still noticeable from a distance, the white thread standing out starkly against the black cloth.

It took him a little while to get into the rhythm of the sewing, but once he did there was no stopping him. Stitch by stitch, Dream added a small symbol in a line at the edge of the fabric, a different item to represent each of his friends.

A white pair of goggles, picked out in thread in a slightly larger format than he was expecting.

_He remembered making fun of how they would keep falling down from his friend’s forehead, laughing as George angrily shoved them back up off his face, glaring playfully at Dream from beneath them._

_He didn’t keep the facade up for long though, before joining Dream in his laughter, only laughing harder when the movement caused the goggles to slip down yet again._

A small flame, the dull orange vibrant against the background and almost giving the impression that one could feel the heat of the Nether radiating off of it.

_Dream stood next to Sapnap, watching the small pile of sticks and leaves they had gathered together catch fire, blazing brightly in the night, the warmth from the flame slowly turning from a pleasant heat to bordering on uncomfortably hot._

_Dream knew it was a bad idea to indulge in his friend’s more destructive habits, but when he saw the smile that appeared on his friend’s face, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop him._

A pair of horns with a white halo hanging over them, stitched in his darkest burgundy and an almost cream shade..

_Bad held his hand out, a slightly guilty smile on his face. He apologized profusely for running into Dream, and he_ really hadn’t seen you there at all I promise I didn’t mean it- _but Dream just laughed, waving off his concern, assuring the demon he was fine._

_Bad just groaned and insisted Dream stay with him for the rest of the day, in case he had any injuries he may not be aware of._ What if you have a concussion? Oh, I simply can’t let you go home if you might have a concussion! What if you fall off a cliff! _Dream agreed after only a little protest._

_If the rest of the day was spent fooling around, baking a batch of muffins at Bad’s house that turned out barely edible, with no injuries revealing themselves across the hours spent together, neither of them mentioned it._

A small bee, the stripes made with the brightest yellow he had and the wings picked out with a thin thread.

_Tubbo ran ahead of him, his laughter loud, free of any tension from the growing conflict between the two countries. It just sounded like a kid having fun, running through the woods, his brother behind him._

_Tubbo called Dream over, speaking excitedly about the beehive he had found, dragging Dream by the hand to check it out with him, his eyes wide and smile bright._

_Dream just laughed and followed Tubbo, listening to him talk on and on about different types of bees, and which type these were, and how cute they all were. They stayed out for hours, Tubbo clinging tightly to Dream’s hand, their chests lighter than they had been for weeks._

A golden crown, with thread that shimmered slightly when the light hit it, small gems the colour of sapphires sewn on.

_Eret looked down at the crown held in their hands, the sunglasses they always wore hiding their expression. Dream didn’t need to see their eyes to know how they felt though, he could tell by the slight raise in their shoulders and the quirk of their lips, the smallest smile forming on their face, that Eret was excited._

_Dream brushed off all of the thanks Eret gave him, deciding instead to pull his sibling into a tight hug, holding on for a moment longer than necessary. He pulled back, his hands still gripping Eret’s arms, and just grinned down at his sibling, the crown held tightly in their grip between the two, glowing ever so slightly._

A music disc with a purple center, a deep black as a background and royal purple thread.

_Dream watched Tommy run past him, screaming behind him about how he’d_ have to do better than that big man! __

_Dream just rolled his eyes before chasing after the teen, feigning annoyance even as a smile broke out on his face. Tommy screamed as he realised Dream had begun chasing after him again, running faster as the masked man chased behind him._

_Despite the obvious scream of terror, Dream could hear Tommy laughing loudly as they ran along the boardwalk, speeding past other members of L’Manberg who just watched the scene unfold in amusement._

A music note in blue, an almost but not quite cyan shade that felt calming to look at.

_Wilbur met Dream outside Niki’s bakery for their so called_ pizza date, _or whatever Wilbur had called it._

_Dream didn’t expect much, but he was looking forward to spending the afternoon with the taller man if he was being honest. He hadn’t gotten to spend much time with Wilbur with everything going on recently, it would be nice to see the man somewhere that wasn’t the opposite end of a battlefield._

_Wilbur held the door open for him, and Dream shot him a smile as he entered, finding himself growing excited for spending the day with the other man._

A diamond sword, slightly tilted, made with some of the blue thread from Wilbur’s music note and and a slightly darker shade twisted together(he thinks he’s once heard Niki call that kind of thread ‘variegated’) and a lovely blue-grey hilt.

_Dream and Techno spent most of their time together sparring, both men finding a thrill in fighting someone of their same skill level._

_But sometimes, when they didn’t have the fire in their chest or the itch for a fight, when they just wanted to lie down, for the world to stop, to not be alone, they could find comfort in each other._

_Sometimes Dream would show up at Techno’s door, mask askew and limbs heavy with exhaustion, and Techno would just open his door and follow the masked man to his living room._

_They would sit down on the floor, not bothering to set up any of the couches, and they would simply lay there, hands next to each other but never touching, enjoying the company of the other person, despite the fact that a word never passed from either of their lips. It was a small comfort they could find only in each other, and neither of them would give it up for the world._

A cake, white frosting decorated with small red strawberries in his brightest shade of red (strawberries, its strawberries, it’s not blood--) and his only brown adding the cake itself.

_Niki found him on the doorstep of her bakery, sitting on the steps, staring blankly ahead. She watched him for a moment to see if he would start the interaction, before sighing and gently tapping his shoulder. She didn’t comment on how he flinched away, jumping back from the sudden touch, she just told him about how Fundy had cancelled on her that day, and she could use an extra set of hands in the kitchen._

_He stared at her for a moment, before nodding and following her inside. He obviously hadn’t done much baking before, but Niki was patient, explaining the steps thoroughly for each item they made._

_It took much longer than it usually would to get through the list of things that needed to be made, but Niki couldn’t find it in herself to be mad, and when Dream left the bakery with a small smile on his face and bounce in his step, Niki knew the extra effort had been worth it in the end._

An orange fox tail, done in a brighter color than Sapnap’s flame and with a white tip.

_Fundy held onto Dream’s arm as they walked through the woods, the hybrid chatting on about one of his more recent experiments. Something about a cannon that could launch people across L’Manberg, Dream wasn’t entirely sure._

_Whatever it was, it sounded very complicated. But Fundy seemed determined to make it happen, and Dream was in no place to argue with him._

_Dream just listened to him talk, watching the way his expression shifted from determination to excitement in a matter of seconds, the fox speaking animatedly. The only reason his hands weren’t flying around him as he spoke was because he was too busy clutching to Dream’s arm to use them._

_They kept walking, both men oblivious to the moon rising above them, walking together and conversing late into the night._

Dream paused, staring at the symbols on the fabric. They were all together, in a group, a _family._

He held a spool of white thread in one hand, staring down at it before looking at the empty spot at the end of the line. It would be so easy to add one more small symbol. it would take him maybe 30 minutes. He could do it right now.

_But did he deserve it,_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

Dream’s hands shook slightly as he picked up the needle, eyes fixated on the spot at the end of the row, waiting for the final person to be added.

It didn’t matter if they didn’t see him as one of them. He was making this for himself, for _him_ to remember them by, not the other way around.

He took a steadying breath, and began to work.

The final symbol was added, slightly further away than any of the other symbols had been, but there nonetheless. 

A white fragment of a broken mask, thin cracks splitting the smile in two.

_Dream watched as his friends joined his world. It all starts with Bad, George, and Sapnap. Their small family is all he needs, the four of them sticking together like glue. It was enough, they were enough._

_Slowly, over the next couple of months, their family grows. More and more of their friends join, and he welcomes them all with open arms and a smile beneath the mask._

_They grow and they build and they explore and they learn and they love and they evolve and they do it together hand in hand._

_And it’s enough for Dream. It was all he had ever hoped for._

_A family of his own._

Dream tied the sash around his mouth, the embroidery landing just below his eyes where the fabric crosses the bridge of his nose, the reminder of his family showing clearly on his face.

His new mask fit across his face securely, slightly restricting his mouth’s movements, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. It wasn’t like he was speaking at all these days.

Dream tied the fabric off at the back of his head, pulling his hair free from the cloth and letting it drape over the knot, hiding it from view.

He smiled beneath the makeshift mask, pulling it up slightly so it ended an inch below his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Dream brushed any small bits of string that had fallen across his lap onto the ground, the dress swaying in the breeze as he stood up, gathering all the materials he had used and packing them away, back into the sewing kit.

He breathed through the mask, the air feeling cleaner, even though Dream knew nothing had really changed.

He looked up at the setting sun, a deep shadow cast behind him, and Dream nodded in confirmation, for no one but himself.

Dream headed back to his house, mask secured, his eyes still visible for all to see, staring ahead, refusing to look back. 

He opens the door to his future, closing it behind him without a second glance.

Today had been a good day.

* * *

Back in L’Manberg, the citizens all gather together in the community house, a pile of supplies sits on the ground in front of them all.

“This has gotta be enough,” Tommy says, pointing at the large pile in the middle of the room, “how long do you think it’ll take us to find one man?”

“One man who doesn’t want to be found,” Techno cuts in, his expression bored as he places his hands on his hips, “and one man who is _very_ good at avoiding people when he wants to.”

Tommy huffed, crossing his arms but not offering any argument, glaring at the pile of things that sat in front of him.

“Listen,” George says, gathering the attention of everyone else in the room, “we have a general idea of where he is, but it’s gonna be difficult to find him. We don’t know what we’re looking for exactly, and all of the area around there is uncharted territory.”

“It’ll probably take at least three days to explore it all, not counting the day it’ll take to get out there,” Sapnap continued, determination set in his eyes, “we need to make sure we’re ready for whatever we’ll find out there.”

Everyone nodded, mind’s set, all in agreement.

Bad spoke up from his position next to George and Sapnap, “We’ll head out the day after tomorrow. We can distribute supplies tomorrow and get into groups. It’ll be easier to cover more ground if we split up.”

Their plan had been set and would fall into motion tomorrow. The members of the SMP were determined.

Nothing would stop them from bringing their friend back home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there we go!! the next couple chapters will probably be slower to update, just because i dont wanna burn myself out AFFDJHBHG
> 
> thank you for all the comments telling me to take care of myself and take breaks <33 i love u guys
> 
> also thank you for everyone who gave me their opinion on the tommy and dream exile fic!! i will be working on it once i finish this one, which, the end is in sight folks!! not quite yet, but soon!!
> 
> i'm gonna do a oneshots book for this tho, so even once the fic finishes it wont be Over :))
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! I HOPE YOU GUYS ALL HAVE A GREAT HOLIDAY SEASON!!!
> 
> If you're interested you can find me @ caydiink on instagram!!
> 
> comments/kudos fuel me so if you like the fic pls consider leaving one <33
> 
> i think the next thing i'll be posting is another oneshot in the parents series, so keep ur eyes peeled for that ;))
> 
> thank you for reading!!!


	9. FANART!!!!!

GUYS!!! SLIVER MADE SOME FANART OF THIS FIC AND IM AFCVBJHGFBHFGBHGF ITS SO GOOD!!!

this was what the whole embroidery was based off of and they gave me the idea for that concept!!! this art is so cute and all the symbols look really good!!

this is another thing they drew with the sash as a mask the way he wears it in the story!!!

AND THEY EVEN DID ACTUAL EMBROIDERY!!! THIS IS SO CUTE IM AFFDJHBFGBHJFGBHJFGGH

I ALSO GOT SOME FANART FROM @naeruns ON INSTAGRAM!! HER ART IS DEADASS SO GOOD AND I CRIED WHEN SHE SENT ME THE FANART PLEASE CHECK HER OUT HER ART IS T O P T I E R AGFHJFGBHJFGBHG

IM IN AWE!!! HE LOOKS SO CUTE IM JUST AGFFJNFGBHFBHJGHG THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH I LOVE THESE BOTH SO MUCH <333

If anyone ever wants to draw me anything or write something for my au feel free to!!! you can tag me in it on instagram if you want @caydiink or gift it to me on ao3!!! i would actually cry AFDFHDFBHJFGBHJG i cant believe people drew stuff based on something i wrote!!

if you don't have insta/ao3 or just dont wanna post it feel free to send me anything on discord!!! you can add me at big lesbian#5200

THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! I CANT BELIEVE YALL MADE STUFF FOR ME IM *heart eyes emoji*


	10. things finally get interesting, to everyones surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally make our way to the climax of the plot, and Dream find something interesting on his property. The L'Manberg people head out :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter!!! it's been a couple days, but i am here to provide you with ur dose of cottagecore Angst <3 ft. not too much angst! i think agfdfhjfgbhjg anyways i hope u like the chapter :)

Something strange had been happening for the past week, and Dream was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Every morning when Dream went to tend to his crops and feed his animals, as soon as he stepped out of the door in the morning, he would be met with a random item left at his doorstep.

The first day had been the old iron bar.

Next, it was a torn up, dirt covered book. Basically illegible through the dirt and torn pages, but mostly readable with some cleaning and enough patience. He still had to get around to restoring it one of these days..

Then, an old boot, leather cracking from age.

After that was a compass, the glass cracked slightly, needle spinning constantly, totally busted.

The next day he was met with an ender pearl, rolling slowly across his doorstep. _(That ‘gift’ had made Dream pause. Ender pearls were extremely rare, basically the only way to get one was by killing an Enderman. If whatever had been leaving these items was skilled enough for that, what else was it capable of?_

_He still placed it carefully in the chest by his bed, making sure not to damage it. He never knew when he would need a quick escape, and one could never be too careful.)_

Then he had found an old stone sword, the edges cracked and the handle splintering.

Finally, it had been an old leather bag, slightly worn but still functional.

At least that one had been useful. It sat next to his sewing kit, waiting to be patched up.

Dream had no idea where it had all come from, but today, that all changed. This morning, Dream _was_ going to find out where these gifts had come from.

He awoke earlier than usual, drifting in and out of sleep the night before, finally getting up with the sun, dawn just breaking as he ate breakfast.

He sat in the main room today instead of in his kitchen, watching his front step from where he sat, waiting for the culprit to show themselves.

His breakfast was small, a piece of toast and some fried potato wedges, but it was enough to last him for the day.

Once he finished his food he pushed his plate away from him, his eyes focusing on his steps, waiting to catch the person in action.

He sat there for five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen.

The sun was rising, the morning in full bloom, the woods waking up as the day began.

Dream blinked, his arms crossed on his chest as he leaned back in his chair, feet propped up in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his skirt hanging loosely around him.

Dream blinked again, and where there was nothing before, now on his doorstep sat a dirt encrusted diamond, shining dully in the morning light.

He stood up with enough force to knock his chair back a couple of inches. He threw the door open, staring at the offending item as it lay innocently at his feet.

_How the fuck did it get here?_ Dream thought, whipping his head up to survey the surrounding woods.

Everything seemed normal, nothing moving in the distance, no figures heading away from his home.

Dream was about to give up and head back inside to maybe go back to bed or scream at a wall for a bit, when something appeared in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere.

He jumped back at the sudden appearance of whatever it was in front of him, taking a couple of steps back before bumping into his doorframe. He opened his mouth in shock, but no noise came out as he backed up.

There, sitting in front of him, was a large black cat, its eyes a vibrant green-yellow, casting a faint glow on the fur around them, which shone slightly violet when the light hit it. It’s head ended around his waist, sleek black fur fluffed up slightly, dirt and other plants matted onto it’s coat, twigs tangled into its fur.

It tilted its head, eyeing him up and down as it sat there.

They stared at each other for a moment, their eyes meeting, before the cat reached its paw forward, pausing when Dream flinched back at the sudden movement, before gently nudging the diamond closer to Dream.

He stared at the stone before looking up at the cat, pointing at the diamond before back at himself, as if to ask _for me?_

The cat nodded, pushing the diamond closer, watching as Dream quickly picked it up, brushing off some of the dirt.

He cleared his throat, wincing at how even that small sound grated against it, but he pushed on, managing to choke out, “thank you.”

The cat seemed pleased at that, walking forward a couple steps before sitting in front of him, looking up expectantly.

Dream placed the diamond in one of the pockets of his skirt before hesitantly reaching out a hand, patting the cat on the head awkwardly.

The cat didn’t seem to notice his hesitance, pushing its head up further into his hand, closing its eyes as Dream rubbed its head, the soft fur nice in contrast to how rough his hands had gotten over the years.

Dream smiled, his other hand coming up to rest on its neck, scratching the cat behind its ears as it purred, eyes blinking slowly.

He looked down at the cat, listening to it's purs as he pet it, it’s matted for still one of the softest things he had felt in months, its head warm beneath his palm as he absentmindedly untangled some of the mats, tugging twigs out of the fur gently.

_(“Dream look!” George called, crouched in front of some bushes._

_Dream made his way over to the brunette, crouching down next to him to get a closer look at what had his friend so excited._

_There in the bushes, hidden beneath the leaves was a small cat, it’s gray fur covered in dirt, yellow and blue heterochromatic eyes blinking up at them as it watched them._

_“It’s so cute, can we keep it please?” George pleaded, turning to look at Dream as he grabbed his arm, shaking him slightly in his efforts._

_Dream laughed, pulling his hand out of George’s grasp before reaching out to pet the kitten, scratching its head slightly._

_“C’mon George,” he said, turning to look at the shorter man, giving him a look behind the mask, “we can’t take him with us. He probably has a family or something looking for him, and besides, you know Sapnap is allergic.”_

_George huffed, joining Dream in petting the cat and rolling his eyes, “I’d rather keep the cat than Sapnap, if you’re going to make me choose between the two.”_

_Dream wheezed, his shoulders shaking as he laughed, George joining him soon after._

_They sat there for a while longer, cracking jokes and petting the cat. At one point George had gently lifted it out of the bushes, placing it on his lap, cooing at the soft purring it let out as he continued to scratch it._

_Eventually its mom had come looking for it, blinking solemnly at the pair as the kitten rejoined its family, walking off back into the woods._

_The pure joy that had lit up George’s face had never truly left Dream’s memory, his smile bright, the most relaxed George had looked in months._

_God, Dream wished he could see George smile like that again-)_

Dream looked into the cat’s eyes once more, the different patches of fur glowing a soft violet in the morning sun, and he made up his mind.

He cleared his throat, giving the cat one last scratch behind its ears before placing his hands on his hips, looking down at the animal.

“Patches,” he said, his voice protesting at the amount he had spoken.

The cat, _Patches,_ blinked up at him, staring at him for a moment, before standing up and bumping her head into his thigh.

Dream stood there in shock for a moment, not expecting the reaction, before laughing slightly. His face broke out into a smile, hidden behind embroidered cloth, and he resumed stroking his new companion, weak laughs still clawing their way out of his throat.

After a couple of minutes, Dream finally stood up fully, his back cracking slightly as he stretched, and he looked down at Patches. He motioned his head out toward the garden, a silent request spoken between the two.

Patches stood up, following him as he walked to where his garden now sat, the sound of the river the only noise in the morning air, Patches’ footsteps silent as they padded across the grass.

She laid down at the entrance of the farm, her eyes open and aware, watching Dream as he worked, pulling crops from the ground and replanting each one with care.

They stayed like that for a couple of hours, the sun blazing brightly above them as it reached midday, sweat trickling down his neck the more he worked, never taking a moment to rest.

Dream hadn’t realised quite how long it had been, or how tired he had gotten, when he felt something warm nudge against his hand, drawing his attention away from the potato he was planting.

_(He remembers sitting with Techno in his garden, watching the other man work, harvesting and replanting each potato with care._

_He didn’t say anything, and the other man never tried to make him. Dream just watched him work in silence, comfortable in each others’ presence._

_Everyone had made fun of the taller man for his potato farm. They respected him, and would never seriously make fun of him,_ (no one had a death wish,) _but they teased him._

_They asked why he would only plant potatoes, why he put so much effort into something that ultimately gave him nothing, why he cared so much, why he wouldn’t let anyone help him._

_Techno never answered them, only shrugging in response before going back to his farm, but Dream got it._

_He understood the need for familiarity, for repetition, for a task you could do without much thought, where your body could go through the motions as your mind wandered._

_It gave you time to process, to think, to go through everything in your head. No one would bother you, no one would expect anything from you and you expected nothing from them._

_Dream understood the need for a routine, better than anyone else on the server could._

_Maybe that was why him and Phil, who he’d never exchanged more than a few words with, were the only two allowed onto the hybrid’s farm, the only two who truly understood why he did what he did, and wouldn’t comment on how out of character it seemed for the man._

_And maybe Techno knew how much it helped Dream, to see his friend breathing and alive and in front of him, every day._

_Neither of them ever brought it up, and Dream watched Techno farm, silently holding out a water bottle every thirty minutes, nodding as Techno took a drink from it wordlessly before getting back to work.)_

Dream looked down at Patches who had walked up to him without him noticing. He tilted his head, looking down at her with his eyebrow quirked. He hesitantly scratched her head, asking what she needed as best he could without actually asking.

She nudged her head further into Dream’s hand, and that was when he noticed the bag she held gently in her mouth. His bag.

He took it from her, looking down at it questioningly, before looking back at Patches.

She only nodded her head towards the bag encouragingly, looking from the bag to him, then back to the bag in a silent yet insistent instruction.

He opened it up, before realising what she wanted from him. He pulled out the water bottle he had placed in his bag that morning before uncapping it, taking a long sip from it.

Dream hadn’t realised quite how thirsty he had gotten, but after he broke out of the trance he had been in while working, the hours passing by in a blur of movement and thought, he realised just how tired he was.

Dream smiled, placing the water bottle back in the bag, giving Patches a couple of pats on her head in thanks, before slinging the bag over his shoulder, and turning to get back to work.

Patches, seemingly appeased with his small break, turned to return to her previous position at the front of the farm, her eyes still watching him as he worked.

_Maybe,_ Dream thought, smiling at the idea, _maybe it was nice to have someone looking out for him._

_Someone who cared for him, even if it was a cat. Even if his friends would never care for him again, he at least had_ someone.

Dream went back to farming, his basket quickly filling up with crops, he finished the rest of his day with Patches at his side, following closely as he moved around his property, watching over him as he worked, making sure he took breaks every so often, never letting him overwork himself.

When he went to pick up the basket filled to the brim with carrots and potatoes freshly harvested, and his wrist flared in pain, causing him to stumble back a couple of steps, gripping it tightly in his other hand, Patches ran up, carefully not to trample any of the freshly planted crops around them.

She nudged his hand away from the basket when he went to go pick it up again, teeth gritted in preparation for the agony it would cause. He blinked down at her, confused at her rejection.

He went to go pick it up again, but before he could reach it, Patches had gripped the handles in her mouth, lifting the basket up with ease.

He watched as she made her way _(still silently, her footsteps never made a noise. It unnerved him, how something so big could move around so quietly, but, somewhere deep inside, it brought him comfort. Knowing she could get away if anyone ever found him. That she could slip away undetected,_ safe, _while he drew the others away.)_ back to the entrance of the farm, looking back at him for direction.

Dream blinked at her, standing dumbly in the middle of his farm, before he made his way over to her, leading her to the small shed he had built _(there was a huge window in each wall, giving him view of anything that may be coming up to the shed._

_He wouldn’t be caught unawares again, he wouldn’t be trapped in that old, dingy room, unforgiving wooden walls trapping him in on all sides, the only entrance blocked by his own hand._

_He wouldn’t be cornered again, the walls wouldn’t leave him blind and grasping for any way out. Dream would make sure of it._

_He would never be cornered, even if he had to cut down every goddamn tree in these woods to make sure of it.)_

Patches placed the basket down in the middle of the shed, pushing him out of the shed before he could even attempt to sort the crops into their proper containers.

He closed the door behind her as she exited, thinking about how a task that would have taken him twenty minutes at least with how bad his wrist had gotten was now done in five, his wrist as pain free as it ever was.

Maybe he was allowed help sometimes. Maybe he _didn’t_ have to do this alone.

Patches followed him into his home, and he made no move to stop her from walking into the small cabin after him.

She laid down in an elegant sprawl in the middle of the main room as Dream cooked dinner, cutting up some of the fish he had caught the other day for Patches.

_(It had been so long since he cooked for anyone else, it was nice, thinking about what they may enjoy, even if it was just for a cat, it made him feel wanted._

_Finally, he could help someone, instead of just_ taking. __

_He remembers cooking with Bad in their joint kitchen, the demon humming lightly as they worked, a smile ever present on his face, even as Dream nearly burned the kitchen down._

_Bad just pulled the ruined loaf of bread from the oven, and helped Dream start again, helping him when he would struggle with a step, giving him helpful tips as they worked together._

_Bad gently gripped Dream’s hands as he showed him how to properly knead the dough, gently pushing down as he showed him the proper technique, humming while they worked._

_The closeness made something deep within Dream flare to life. The need to be close to others, to be near them, to know they wanted him just as badly as he wanted them, to know that they enjoyed his presence._

_Bad must have been a mind reader, or just_ really _good at reading people, because at that moment, once the newly made loaf of bread was placed into the oven,_ (we have to remember to take it out this time!) _he pulled Dream in for a hug, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead as he cheered._

_“Great job Dream!” he exclaimed, giving his hand a quick squeeze before he stepped back, rambling on about how he was sure that loaf of bread was gonna be the best one yet._

_Dream smiled, laughing along with his friend as they began to clean up the mess they had inevitably made, both of them covered head to toe in flour and bits of dough, neither man seeming to mind, not knowing nor caring how it got there._

_Dream pulled the (perfectly cooked) loaf of bread out of the oven when Bad told him to, and his heart soared when he saw the approving smile Bad gave him, his body warming as Bad placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it._

_Their eyes met from behind the mask, and Dream had never been more thankful for his friend. His friend who gave gentle touches or reassuring words so easily, the smallest gesture leaving Dream giddy and red-faced for hours after they were given._

_“I’m proud of you,” Bad had said, so, so easily, not even the slightest hint of hesitation evident anywhere in his body._

_Dream was thankful for his mask in that moment, that hid the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.)_

Dream and Patches ate their respective meals in silence, and at night, when the moon came out and the thin walls were never enough to keep the chill out of his house, the wind blowing as he pulled his thin blanket as tightly around his shivering form as he could, he felt a warm body press against his back.

He turned, coming face to face with Patches, whose eyes were already shut, breath coming out evenly as she slept curled around him. 

Dream closed his eyes and fell asleep faster than he had in months.

* * *

The groups had been decided. They split up into groups of four, hoping to cover more ground that way, but they would still have enough people if something were to go wrong.

The first group was Tubbo, Eret, Sapnap and George. The four of them packed together, making sure they had the necessary supplies, each person carrying different items.

Sapnap was in charge of the food, packing enough to last them up to two weeks, just in case something happened. George was carrying the tents, each person carrying their own sleeping bag.

Eret was in charge of the compass and map, carrying a couple of other things that might come in handy when searching for Dream. They were really the only one anyone trusted with the map, which they readily agreed to.

And finally Tubbo. He was in charge of the medkit and any other miscellaneous tools that may come in handy. He had beamed when Eret handed the kit to him, assuring the group they could trust him with something that important.

They didn’t mention that Dream’s life, depending on what state they find him in _(and they_ will _find him-)_ may depend on it. They didn’t want to ruin his mood, to remind him of why they were packing in the first place.

He deserved to be excited, at least for now. _One_ of them should be.

The next group was Techno, Tommy, Quackity, and Ghostbur. They _did_ attempt to pack together, but most of it fell on Techno and Ghostbur while Tommy and Quackity fucked around, doing god only knows what.

Tommy was chasing Quackity around the house, holding _something_ that Techno didn’t care enough about to try and get a closer look, while Quackity screamed bloody murder, sprinting as fast as he could to evade the teen.

Techno just sat next to Ghostbur who strummed on his guitar absentmindedly, every now and then mentioning something Techno should add to their packs. Usually it was something they didn’t need and wouldn’t waste space on, but he nodded each time, humoring the ghost.

He split their supplies in four equal sections, making sure everyone would carry the same amount of materials.

_(He knew that Tommy would complain about his pack being heavier than everyone else's, and he knew he would end up taking it from the teen just to shut him up, but he had hope that maybe_ this _time, Tommy wouldn’t complain about every single small inconvenience just in hopes to get a reaction from his peers._

_He ignored the fact that, instead of finding it horribly annoying, as he_ should, _Techno found it endearing, almost smiling at the thought of it._

_God, if Dream were here he’d lose his mind at the sight the four men made. He’d do that stupid wheeze he called a laugh and-_

_Dream wasn’t here though._

_That was about to change.)_

The final group was Bad, Skeppy, Niki and Fundy.

They were, by far, the most organised of the three groups, all four of them coming up with a list of things they may need, splitting up to get every item and a couple extra they had thought of along the way, before reconvening to split up the materials evenly.

They spoke quietly as they worked, chatting and laughing as they divided everything up, each person packing their own supplies, only taking what they would need.

Bad had done his best to reign Skeppy in, doing his best to keep his attention on the task at hand, but helpless to stop the man from dragging him onto some ‘sidequest’, adding fifteen minutes to their workload with each distraction.

Niki and Fundy just watched the two men run around, Skeppy practically dragging Bad behind him as he ran, his voice raising in excitement.

They had time, and it was nice. Seeing the two interact, seeing how close they truly were.

_(It was nice, seeing that at least somebody was in high spirits. That not everyone was daunted by the task in front of them, the implications it all held._

_No one missed the fact that, despite George and Sapnap having found Dream, he still wasn’t home. He had actively_ ran _front them._

_It hurt all of their hearts, knowing that Dream didn’t feel safe, didn’t feel wanted, didn’t feel whatever he should’ve felt when faced with his two best friends._

__(Bad had spent a couple of nights crying himself to sleep, blaming himself for the fact that his friend, his friend who he _helped rebel against,_ didn’t feel safe or wanted. He was determined to get him back and to make him feel safe again, no matter what.) __

_They had let him down, left him to fend for himself, left him behind. But not this time, they weren’t letting him go this easily.)_

The next morning, everyone gathered at the community house, bags strapped onto their backs, and faces determined.

They made the journey to the woods George and Sapnap had found Dream in as a group. It took about a day to get there all together, having to take a couple of breaks when anyone got too tired.

No one would complain whenever they had to stop, but everyone would sit there anxiously, eyeing the trail they were walking along, eager to get back to walking. Every step was a step closer to their friend, a step closer to _Dream._

It had been so long since anyone had seen him, had spoken to him, they were all nervous for what they would find. They had all changed, their country had changed, their lives had changed, they could only assume Dream had changed as well.

They would find out soon enough.

The walk was somewhat subdued, the only people providing constant chatter and steady optimism was Tubbo, Tommy and Quackity. The three of them were running around, speaking loudly as they moved, constantly cracking jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It never fully worked, an air of unease constantly hanging around the group as they travelled, but it helped. It made their situation a little easier to deal with, the reality of everything hitting a little less hard.

_(And if, late at night, when everyone was retiring to their tents, Tubbo and Eret sat a ways away from the campsite, the older sibling pointing up at the stars as the younger leaned into their side, both of them leaving enough space on the blanket they sat at for a third person, left empty but never forgotten, well-_

_no one had the heart to say anything.)_

Finally, the sun high in the sky as afternoon fell upon them on their second day of travel, did the group finally reach the entrance to the forest.

They stood in front of the treeline, saying their final goodbyes.

Everyone said their peace, Tubbo and Tommy hugging for a solid two minutes before waving goodbye with the promise of messaging each other each night.

Each person had fully charged their communicators just in case they needed to get in contact with each other quickly, and had enough redstone to keep them charged for days.

They parted ways at the edge of the woods, venturing deeper into the trees, each party moving with a fire in their hearts now blazing.

Their friend was near, and they were going to find him.

Nothing could stop them now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there we go lads! 
> 
> we're getting to the point where i have to stop writing a bunch of introspective angst and general suffering, and i have to actually write a Confrontation, so chapters may take a lil longer to come out, but not too long!!
> 
> i'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left, but i think we're in the home stretch now! i already have plans for oneshots and lil snippets for once the main series is done >:)
> 
> if you liked this chapter pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc i love them and appreciate each one!
> 
> if ur interested you can find me on instagram @caydiink !
> 
> thank you all so much for reading this chapter, and thank you for all the comments on my previous chapters, theyre genuinely so nice to read <33


	11. revelations and relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been like almost a week, but i give you a 25 page long chapter as an apology for the wait :)
> 
> i'm very happy with how this turned out
> 
> TW: In the letters at the end of the chapter, there are a couple of moments where Dream thinks about killing himself, it's not graphic or anything and it's just like 2 sentences, but just be careful!

The forest was _big._

Everyone had known it would be difficult going into it, but no one had realised just how much land there was, all of it unexplored.

Unexplored by none except one person, the man they were searching day and night for.

Sapnap groaned, throwing his head back in frustration, his feet dragging behind him as they walked.

“How far is this damn cottage? Dream was like, half dead dude,” Sapnap said, flailing his arms around as he spoke for emphasis, “how far could he have even gotten?”

George shoved Sapnap lightly as he walked past him, “can you go five minutes without complaining?”

Tubbo laughed as Sapnap stumbled, looking at George with betrayal clear on his face.

“George,” he whined, “Georgie, Gogy, how could you? I’ve been betrayed by my own best friend. I was punished for speaking my mind, what a cruel world it is! How could you-”

Sapnap’s rant was cut off when George slammed a hand over his mouth, reaching up to cover his mouth, “Oh my god _please_ stop talking, I am literally begging you.”

George suddenly pulled his hand back, staring at it in disgust, “Oh my fucking god, did you seriously just _lick_ my hand? Sapnap that is disgusting oh my god!”

The other three broke out into laughter as George kept ranting, a look of pure outrage on his face. It wasn’t enough to hide the spark of amusement in his eyes, a pang of longing at the familiar interaction igniting in his chest.

_(A wheeze ringing out as George and Sapnap wrestled on the ground, what started as a small argument over something dumb turning into a full on brawl in the dirt, their third friend making no move to intervene._

_“Dream help!” Sapnap yelled as George sat on top of him, pushing his hands into the dirt to keep him from throwing him off, “he’s gonna kill me oh fuck!”_

_“Stop being such a baby,” George said, which only caused Dream to laugh harder, struggling to breathe as he laughed._

_George and Sapnap tried to keep their playful fight up, but at hearing their friend’s laughter, their composure didn’t last long._

_Sapnap was the first to crack, his eyes squeezing shut as he laughed, his body shaking beneath George. The brunette had doubled over shortly afterwards, his chest shaking with poorly restrained laughter.)_

Eret coughed a couple of times, taking a deep breath before straightening up, looking at their three travelling companions. “Come on guys,” they said, taking their place at the front of the group, Tubbo falling in step next to them, “we really need to keep moving.”

“Yeah yeah, we’re coming,” Sapnap said, grabbing George’s hand and pulling him back onto the path, their hands swinging slightly as they walked.

The group kept moving, idle conversation the only noise, the four friends talking about whatever came to mind, trying to keep the mood as light as possible.

It had been about five days, and there had been no sign of Dream. Either this forest was a lot bigger than they had thought, or Dream was much better at hiding than anyone had anticipated.

_No one wanted to consider the fact that Dream wasn’t here. That he had packed up and left, destroying any hint of his presence, leaving to somewhere further, somewhere he wouldn’t be stumbled upon, where he wouldn’t be found._

_But Dream wouldn’t do that. He_ had _to be here._

They hadn’t heard much from the other groups. True to his word, Tommy did message Tubbo every night on his communicator, the two teens talking for as long as they could without seriously depleting their power.

From what the blonde said, his group hadn’t found much either. Techno seemed to be optimistic, but Tommy had said he thought his brother just didn’t want to admit that he had no idea where to look.

No one would blame him, they had no clue where they were going either. They just wandered through the woods, praying to find some sign that their friend had been there.

Bad had also been messaging Sap and George, checking in to make sure they were both okay. He said he checked in with everyone, but no one else had gotten the constant check-ins the other two received.

_(They understood. Everyone was close to Dream, but the four of them, Dream, Bad, Sapnap and George, they had been_ close. __

_They were the muffinteers! It was them against the world, they would be best friends, no matter what side of the war they ended up on._

_When had that promise been broken, when had it all gone so_ wrong? __

_With Dream gone, George, Bad and Sapnap had stayed together. They couldn’t lose another friend, their hearts couldn’t take it._

_They had never been able to truly mourn the loss of Dream. When he had first left, everyone had thought of it as a win. They had fucking_ celebrated. __

_How were you supposed to mourn the man everyone else wished dead?_

_How were you supposed to tell the people who cheered at his defeat that you missed him, that you would give anything to see him again, to listen to him, to hold him just one more time._

_The three hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye, to say the things that should never have been left unsaid. They weren’t going to make the same mistake twice._

_The three of them stuck together. No one else could truly understand how they felt, except for maybe Tubbo and Eret, but it was different._

_None of them knew how exactly it was different, it just was._

_They may have lost Dream, but they still had each other. They weren’t going to take another friend for granted.)_

The group kept walking, trees passing them by as they put one foot in front of the other. Sapnap didn’t bring up the possibility of Dream being gone again.

* * *

Bad was a calm person. It was one of the things about him he was proudest of, his ability to keep a level head in any situation, never losing his temper.

He was very close to snapping as he pulled Skeppy back onto the trail for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes, the other man constantly getting distracted by things he saw in the woods that he found more interesting.

Fundy hadn’t been helping, he would point out anything he thought looked remotely interesting, laughing as Skeppy immediately ran off to try to get a closer look, turning around the smile innocently at Bad as he pulled the other man back towards the group.

“C’mon Skeppy,” he said, pulling him back next to him, grabbing his hand to try and keep him in place, “please just stick to our path for at least twenty minutes.”

“But Baaaaaad,” Skeppy groaned, dragging his feet and kicking up dirt behind him, “I just wanna take a quick look, it won’t take more than five minutes!”

“Yeah, five minutes twenty different times,” Niki called out, not looking up from the compass held in her hands once, moving forward at a steady pace.

Skeppy rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, his hand swinging Bad’s back and forth energetically as they walked, his head turning quickly at any noise, eyes constantly shifting between different things.

Fundy looked out into the woods ahead of them and perked up. Bad groaned, already planning on having to drag Skeppy back yet again, his grip tightening in a vain attempt to keep Skeppy next to him.

Fundy looked back quickly, smiling at Bad, before pointing somewhere off into the woods.

“Hey guys, I think I see a-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Fundy face planted into the dirt, Bad holding back a small laugh as Skeppy laughed openly at the hybrid.

Niki just stopped and turned to look at Fundy, smiling sweetly as she held her hand out to help him up.

“Oh dear Fundy,” she said, pulling him to his feet as he dusted himself off, glare trained on the shorter woman, “you should really be more careful, there’s a lot of bumps in the road. It’s very easy to trip if you’re not paying attention.”

Fundy didn’t say anything in response, turning and facing forwards, still trying to get the remaining dirt off of his jacket.

“Did you see something?” Skeppy asked, leaning forward towards the fox as he asked, bouncing on his feet in anticipation.

“It was nothing,” Fundy said as Niki turned to look at him, her eyebrow raised, “just my imagination.”

Skeppy nodded, oblivious to Fundy’s anger, and continued looking out into the trees, bouncing slightly with every step.

Bad just smiled as he watched Skeppy for a moment, moving a bit closer to him as they walked, holding his hand tighter.

_(He remembers one day, being awoken as the sun was just rising to a frantic knocking on his door._

_Bad blearily pulled it open, and was about to ask what the person needed, when he was met face to face with a panicked Dream, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath, hands flapping frantically in front of him._

_Bad stood there in shock for a moment, before quickly asking, “Dream oh my gosh! What’s wrong, are you okay?”_

_Dream just shook his head, his hair flying as his head moved, the sweaty strands sticking to his mask._

_Bad just nodded, mind racing as he thought of what to do. He had never seen Dream in such a state before, he wasn’t sure how to help the admin._

_He didn’t even know Dream could_ get _like this. He always seemed so untouchable, so strong, so unbreakable._

_But he was here now, and Bad wasn’t gonna leave him to deal with this on his own. Strong or not, Dream was struggling, and had trusted Bad enough to come to him for help._

_He wasn’t gonna mess it up._

_Bad stepped forward carefully, taking Dream’s hands in his, squeezing them lightly._

_“Try and copy my breathing Dream, in for four, hold for eight, out for four,” Bad said in the gentlest voice he could muster._

_They stood there in Bad’s doorway, Bad rubbing the back of Dream’s hands as he spoke softly to him, offering encouragement and kind words, trying to ease Dream out of the panic attack._

_Slowly but surely, Dream’s breath evened out, his hands shaking in Bad’s and body trembling, but he took a deep breath, tightening his grip on Bad’s hands, pulling him closer._

_Bad held Dream as he shook, his hands gripping onto the back of his shirt as if his life depended on it, and Bad just rubbed his back, whispering in his ear, consoling his friend as best as he could._

_Once Dream had composed himself, he pulled away, his hand finding Bad’s and holding on again. Bad didn’t mind, he enjoyed the affection._

_“Do you wanna talk about it, Dream?” Bad asked, looking into his mask, trying to sound as casual as he could._

_Dream just shook his head, tightening his grip._

_“It’s okay Dream,” Bad said, patting his arm with his free hand, rubbing it gently before dropping it back to his side, “you don’t have to. Do you wanna go back to bed?”_

_A pause, before another shake of the head, stepping closer to the demon ever so slightly._

_Bad just smiled at him, “that’s okay!” he said, now fully awake, “it’s basically morning, I guess there’s not really any point now.”_

_They stood there for a moment in silence, just enjoying each others’ presence, before Bad spoke up, “would you like to go on a walk with me?”_

_Dream paused, his head tilting as he considered it. Finally, his mind made up, Dream nodded._

_“Alright, we’ll just walk around outside near the house for a bit! The gardens always look lovely in the morning,” Bad said as he walked, pulling Dream along as he made his way out of the house, their hands still clasped together._

_Dream had slowly relaxed the longer they walked, making slow loops around the house, Bad filling the silence as he spoke about whatever came to mind._

_And when Dream pulled him in for another hug before they entered the home and whispered in his ear_ thank you, _Bad just smiled, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead before grabbing his hand again._

_“What are friends for?” he asked, leading his friend back inside, thoughts of breakfast filling his mind, the incident from earlier already pushed to the back of his mind.)_

They kept walking, Skeppy keeping up a constant stream of chatter, unable to stay still for more than a minute, always needing to be doing _something._

Bad found it endearing, his constant rambling never failing to bring a smile to his face.

Fundy sulked for a little longer, before slowly joining in with Skeppy, adding his own comments and thoughts, eventually drawing Niki into it as well.

Bad was happy enough to stay back and listen to his friends talk, their laughter bringing a smile to his face.

It reminds him of travelling with three other people, the way conversation flowed easily between the group.

They had gotten so used to travelling together, so used to each others’ routines and styles, it had just become the way they travelled.

Bad constantly found himself turning to tell Sapnap to pass him the compass, or to tell Dream to scout ahead while George looked for a campsite and Bad studied the map.

He would turn to his left to make a joke to someone who wasn’t there, hadn’t been there for months.

Bad’s heart felt heavier and heavier with each reminder of the friends he was missing, the only thing keeping him from breaking down was the knowledge that George and Sapnap had each other, that they were safe.

_(The constant check-ins and reminders that they were still there, they hadn’t left him, they were fine and alive and safe helped. He wouldn’t be losing another friend to these woods. Not today.)_

Bad had Skeppy to hold his hand, to keep him grounded and focused on the task at hand, keeping his mind from wandering to darker places.

And hopefully, by the end of this trip, their trio would be whole again, the hole their fourth member had left, leaving them empty and wanting for more, would finally be filled.

* * *

Techno was a talented man. He knew it, and didn’t shy away from that fact. He knew he was smart, and anyone who said otherwise wouldn’t be saying anything for a little while.

That’s what made it so difficult for him to admit that he had no clue what to do.

He stared at the compass gripped tightly in his gloved hands, careful not to shatter it.

How were you supposed to track someone who was known for being untrackable?

There were no signs of anyone ever having stepped foot in these woods prior to them, let alone living here for months.

His group wasn’t much help either, Tommy getting distracted by any shiny thing that caught his eye, Quackity only goading him on, the two of them constantly running off into the trees to check out whatever had caught their attention this time.

Techno didn’t bother to stop them, he was honestly thankful for the moment of peace it gave him.

Not that it helped much. Every time the two came back, out of breath and faces flushed, he would give them the same answer to the question they asked every time.

“Did ya find anything yet big man?” Tommy would ask without fail, nudging his brother with his elbow.

Techno kept his eyes glued on the trees, searching for any sign of life, of someone having been here before, anything that could lead him to Dream

“Not yet,” he would say, and that would be that.

Ghostbur was floating a few feet behind Techno, strumming his guitar as he followed the group, sometimes being dragged off by Tommy and Quackity, willing to join in with their antics, other times staying behind, his humming soothing background noise for Techno as he focused.

He hadn’t said much on the journey, focused solely on the task at hand. When he set his mind to something, Techno saw it through, giving it all of his attention until it was over and done with.

He wasn’t a man to leave a job half done, and finding Dream was no exception.

_(He heard a laugh from behind him, and Techno spun quickly, pulling the hoe he was holding into a defensive position, ready to attack whatever had snuck up behind him._

_He was met with Dream, chuckling slightly as he held his hands up in surrender, hood pushed back and mask slightly pushed up, grin visible beneath the porcelain._

_“It’s just me Bacon,” Techno groaned at the nickname, rolling his eyes and lowering the hood, “no need to brandish your hoe threateningly at me.”_

_“What do you want, nerd?” Techno asked, turning back to his farm, the teasing nickname rolling easily off his tongue, “And why are you here?”_

_“Oh well, you know,” Dream laughed, dropping to the ground and leaning back onto a tree, his legs crossed in front of him, “I was in the area, thought I’d swing by to visit my favourite farmer. How’s that going?”_

_Techno felt himself relaxing at the banter, turning slightly to respond, “it’s going well, I’ve doubled the farm size since you last visited, so it’s a bit more work, but,” he shrugs. “you know.”_

_Dream just nodded, and the two fell into a comfortable silence, the blond taking out a dagger and beginning to polish it as Techno kept working, harvesting and replanting potatoes without pause._

_“It’s impressive,” Dream spoke up suddenly, startling Techno enough to make him pause, potato held midair, halfway to the barrel, “all of this.”_

_Techno just hummed, waiting for the blond to continue. He did not disappoint._

_“You can just farm for-for hours, without stopping, you know? You just keep going, harvest, replant, move on. Rinse and repeat. I just-” Dream cut himself off, thinking for the right word._

_Techno waited for the inevitable._ You’re a bit odd, _or_ you care a lot about some dumb crop, _or even just straight out_ what the fuck is wrong with you? __

_But it never came. Instead, Techno heard Dream speak up, hesitation clear in his voice, a soft whisper from beneath the mask._

_“It’s nice.”_

_That made Techno come to a full stop, turning where he stood to look at the man, sitting up now, his hands worrying at each other in his lap, head turned away from Techno as he spoke._

_“Seeing that you care I mean,” Dream said quickly, his hands waving as he spoke, “ya know, because like, you’re so focused on your potatoes and they obviously mean a lot to you, and it’s just nice to see you caring about something so much and I just think-”_

_“Thank you,” Techno said, cutting off the would be rant before it could truly begin, Techno knowing well enough how much the admin could ramble when he was nervous._

_Dream paused, turning to face Techno, at a loss for words, before finally saying, “Oh. Uh, you-you’re welcome.”_

_Techno nodded once, and that was that. Techno turned back to his farm, and began the process again, harvest, replant, move on. Rinse and repeat._

_Dream slowly leaned back against the tree, watching Techno for a moment before going back to his dagger, polishing it as they sat in silence, reassurance Techno hadn’t felt for a long time settling around his shoulders like a blanket.)_

At night, Ghostbur would shake Techno gently as Tommy and Quackity began to set up camp, and he would watch as Techno blinked slowly, looking at the woods around him, finally processing how far they had walked during the day.

He would lead Techno to the campsite, and sit next to him as he started a fire, Techno remaining silent as he worked, but more aware of his surroundings, looking _at_ everyone instead of _through_ them.

It was nice, the nights. It was almost like camping, if they ignored the reason they were out there at all. At night, just for a couple of hours, they could pretend.

Tommy would finally calm down, Quackity still talking animatedly around the fire as they ate, speaking in louder voices than Techno would like, but there was no use in trying to get them to quiet down.

Ghostbur would put his guitar away and sit right next to the fire, the glow drawing him in, loving the warmth emanating from it.

Tommy had screamed when Ghostbur stuck his hand directly into the flame, no one was sure what would happen to the ghost, if anything at all, but Ghostbur just sat there, staring at his hand that was now glowing a dull orange.

Quackity had laughed for seven minutes straight (Techno was counting) gasping for breath by the end of it, all while Tommy yelled at him, voice shrill and face red.

Ghostbur just smiled as he watched his hand, moving it through the flames, turning to show Techno every now and then, the hybrid watching the three of them from where he was seated, a slight smile on his face.

The nights were good, until the fire was put out and the bitter air wrapped around them and the silence and the dark and everything that had been left unsaid clung to him, digging its claws into his skin and burrowing its way into his head.

He never slept well. He hadn’t before going on the trip, but it only got worse with each night spent in the forest.

Techno would wake up in a cold sweat, eyes wide and heart beating faster as the memories of a masked face, covered in blood and tears, the feeling of blood still hot on his hands, his title he wore with pride only feeling like lead in his chest, faded into the morning air.

He would wonder, watching everyone throughout the day, if they had similar dreams.

If they also saw him, dying, alone and afraid.

He wonders if they saw themselves plunging a sword into his chest, just as he had seen time and time again.

He never asked though. He didn’t want to think about what it would mean if they didn’t dream of that, if it was just him and the guilt that sucked him dry, clinging to his mind like a plague, always there, waiting for his guard to be lowered.

But they went on, and kept walking. Day, after day, after day, after day, after day.

Techno was getting ready to call it quits. It had been five days and no sign whatsoever of Dream. Their supplies were running low, and they didn’t wanna run out before they finished the trip back to the server, and at this point he was truly doubting Sapnap and George’s sanity.

_One more day,_ he thought each day, _one more day, and if we don’t find him today, we’ll leave._

Nothing ever changed with one more day, it was always the same dull forest with no signs of their friend.

Until the sixth day.

Techno had been walking ahead of the group, Quackity and Tommy yelling about something behind him, Ghostbur only encouraging them, when Techno paused, back straightening as he looked around.

He could smell, _something._

Techno surveyed the woods around him carefully, no one behind him speaking, careful not to break his concentration. This was their first lead, they couldn’t fuck it up.

Techno sniffed, his enhanced smell searching for whatever had caught his attention. his mind was racing, thinking, comparing, analyzing, until suddenly-

_Blood._

He smelled blood.

It wasn’t fresh blood, but it certainly wasn’t natural, and it was the first clue they had and fucking finally all these nights had been worth it, worth _something._

Techno ran off in the direction he smelled it coming from, everyone behind him letting out a small yelp as he bolted, racing to catch up.

“Hey big man!” Tommy yelled, gasping for breath as he sped up to catch up with Techno, “what the fuck? Where are we going?”

Techno didn’t have time to explain, he had to find the blood, he had to find his friend, he had to find anything as long as it would take him to Dream. He just gasped out a quick, “I found something,” and left it at that.

Tommy’s eyes widened, and he nodded, turning to yell back to the other two, “hurry the fuck up! We got a lead, and big D can’t wait all day!”

The other two quickly sped up, the only sound from then on being their laboured breaths, and the sound of their feet hitting the grass as they ran, ducking and dodging around branches and roots, going as fast as they could (with Ghostbur gliding above and/or through it all, of course).

Techno stopped suddenly, Tommy crashing into his back, barely even budging the man as he crouched down to look at something on the ground.

“What is it? What’d ya find?” Tommy asked, the rest of the group crowding around the hybrid.

“Oh shit,” Quackity said, leaning on Tommy’s shoulder to get a better look, still panting from the run, “is that blood?”

Techno nodded, looking at the trail of blood on the ground. It was old, maybe a couple of weeks, but it didn’t smell like an animal’s, and it led deeper into the woods.

“C’mon,” Techno said, standing up and ignoring Tommy’s yell as he stumbled from where he was leaning on Techno’s shoulder, “we gotta follow it.”

“This better not be from a fuckin wolf or some shit,” Tommy muttered, but followed his brother deeper into the woods.

The blood wasn’t much, a few splashes here or there, but once Techno found it, he could see other signs that someone had been here. Someone _human._

There were broken branches in the trees, twigs snapped and small shrubs stepped on, indicating that whoever had come through here had been in a rush.

He could tell by the blood staining the sticks and grass on the ground that they hadn’t had shoes on either. God, if Dream hadn’t been killed in these woods by now he’d kill the man himself.

_(The joke fell flat in his own head. He usually loved threats of violence, knowing full well he would never go through with them._

_But now, it just felt wrong._

_Maybe because he had already tried. Been there done that, as they say. But the thought of killing Dream, of standing against Dream, left his stomach twisting and his breathing unsteady, his heart beat slowly increasing._

_Techno was born with violence in his blood and anger in his bones, but today, the thought of it made him_ sick.)

He kept following the trail for then minutes, then thirty, and then an hour, when Techno began to lose hope.

_What if it really is just from some animal,_ Techno thought, his heart dropping as he thought about the possibility that this wouldn’t lead them anywhere but disappointment, _what if this has all been a hoax, and I’m leading us further away from him >_

Techno was ready to give up, to look for something else, just get away from his failure, when he pushed through the brush, and stumbled.

_Stumbled into an open clearing._

Techno right himself and stared, taking in the area around him, the sound of Tommy and Quackity crashing through behind him a distant sound.

The first thought Techno has, is that this is _nice._

He can hear the sound of a river rushing, and when he looks towards it he can see a large farm set up, rows and rows of different crops growing, a large wooden basket left near the entrance of the farm, seeming hand weaved.

There were a couple of pens with animals lounging in them, chewing on the grass absentmindedly. He could see cows and sheep, freshly sheared, and a couple of chickens further back.

Next to the river, hanging from a tree was an old rope swing, swaying gently, a bag left beneath the tree, covered by the shade of the leaves.

And finally, looking up an old path, flowers and weeds growing around the stones, was the house.

It was small. Smaller than he had expected from Dream, who had always seemed larger than life, his personality so much bigger than he could ever be, filling the room with his presence as soon as he walked in the door.

It was small, and comfy, and it looked wellmade, but Techno could see where Dream had made small mistakes, patching them up with scraps of wood or leaves or vines as best as he could, days of hard work clear in it’s construction.

He could tell where the most recent addition was, a small room off the side of the house. It was cleaner, the boards straighter and put together with more confidence than the rest of the house.

Techno didn’t know what he expected when he thought about finding Dream. 

Did he expect the man to be huddled in a cave, just waiting for someone to find him? To take him home? Did he really think Dream so incapable, that he would be wasting away for months on his own, begging to be taken back, asking for their help? As if they deserved to give it to him?

_(Did he expect to find Dream at all? To find him anything more than a corpse, injuries sustained from his friends, unsure which one was the killing blow, never knowing who it was who killed their friend, everyone left wondering if it was them, their blade that killed their friend?)_

Whatever Techno had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.

And judging by the cries of shock from behind him, and the small gasp of wonder from Ghostbur, none of them did either.

“Shit,” Tommy said, voice trailing off as he stepped past Techno, eyes roaming across the land, taking in each detail, his face covered in shock, and awe, and amazement, and guilt, and too many things for Techno to see.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ,” Quackity laughed, an edge of hysteria to his voice, “it seems like he’s been busy.”

Techno looked around, ears straining to find any hint of someone being here, but he came up blank.

“Yeah yeah, that’s all well and good,” Techno said, stepping out of the treeline, walking up to the path that leads to the house, “but where _is_ he?”

Tommy and Quackity paused, looking around, eyes wide and bodies tense as if Dream could jump out at them with an axe at any moment, which, fair.

Ghostbur just excitedly floated over to the animals, cooing at them and petting whichever ones would let him get close.

“Aww look here guys! He has friends!” Ghostbur exclaimed, turning back to look at them all.

“That’s great Ghostbur,” Tommy said, giving his dead brother a soft smile, but making no move to head over, choosing instead to poke his head into the shed, the wooden door left open.

“There’s just a buncha vegetables and shit in here,” Tommy said, walking back out and gesturing to the small room.

“I mean, vegetables are better than a bunch of weapons, or some super intricate and fucked up revenge plot on all of us,” Quackity offered, shrugging as the other three gave him a look.

“That still doesn’t answer where he is,” Techno groaned, surveying the area.

“Should we not message the others first?” Ghostbur asked, floating back over to the group, holding a flower in his hand that he had somehow gotten in the past ten seconds.

Everyone paused, looking at each other, before Tommy smacked his forehead with a loud groan, “Fuck! I can’t believe we forgot to do that, that’s like, the first thing we should’ve done!”

Techno just sighed and pulled out his communicator as Quackity laughed. “I’ll message Skeppy and you can tell Tubbo, send them our cords. We can take a look around while we wait for them to make their way over, it may take them a little bit to get here.”

Tommy nodded and started typing a message on his communicator, face set in concentration as he wrote.

Techno pulled up his conversation with Skeppy and quickly typed out a message.

_Technoblade: We found where Dream’s been staying, but no sign of him. Tell your group to pack up and head over._

_Skeppy: wahit really??? is hre thevgre?_

_Technoblade: No, he isn’t here from what we can see. We’re gonna take a look around while we wait for everyone to get here._

_Skeppy: okadgy! Bad syas that we cns start hedading ovher now!!!_

_Technoblade: Your typing disgusts me, please hurry._

After sending him their co-ords, Techno shut off his communicator, placing it in his bag and starting down the path towards the house, not bothering to see if anyone was following him.

He knew they were, judging by the footsteps rushing to catch up. “Did you message Tubbo?” he asked, looking at Tommy as he reached Techno’s side.

“Yeah don’t worry, he said that they’re on their way right now!” Tommy said, rolling his eyes and waving Techno’s concern away, “they said they’ll be here in around an hour, they weren’t too far away.”

Techno nodded and kept walking, stopping in front of the door, letting everyone else catch up.

Slowly, Techno knocked on the door, the wood rattling ominously but staying put, the sound echoing around them.

He frowned, waiting for any response from inside, being met with silence and the muffled sound of the animals behind them.

“I guess he’s not home,” Quackity said, going to open the door, but Techno grabbed his wrist before he could open the door, pulling him back a bit.

“What the hell dude?” Quackity asked, pulling his hand out of his grip and shooting Techno a confused look.

“We shouldn’t go in on our own,” he said, ignoring the offended looks the two teens gave him, and Ghostbur’s tilt of his head, “we don’t know what’s in there, and knowing how paranoid Dream is, it could be trapped or some shit.

I say we wait for everyone to regroup, and check it out together. We can search the area for now and see if there’s any sign of where he’s gone.”

The three nodded, and Techno let out the breath he had been holding, shoulders relaxing slightly.

This was good. They had a _plan._

They were going to find Dream, they were so fucking close.

Without another word, the group walked back down the path, splitting up to search the woods near the cottage, trying to find any sign of their missing friend.

* * *

Dream hadn’t felt this free in a long time. He was running through the trees, hair tied back, mask securely covering his mouth, and loose skirt swaying around his ankles as he ran, branches whipping past him.

Patches was running in front of him, turning to check he was still there every now and then, leading him deeper into the woods.

She had been restless all morning, and Dream had finally decided to give in and take a break, packing a bag with some food and water for both of them, and off into the woods they went.

It had started as a small walk, picking any seeds or berries that looked interesting, gathering some wildflowers to bring a bit more colour to his home, and just enjoying the sun and the silence, leaves rustling around them as they walked.

Then Patches began to pick up her pace, starting at a light jog, then a run, and finally a sprint through the trees, legs bounding, landing silently against the earth, Dream smiling as he ran behind her.

He didn’t know why they were running, but it felt nice. A chance to stretch his legs, let loose and just enjoy the day. He knew his thigh would be sore later, and it might fuck up his day tomorrow, but he had just harvested the crops yesterday, he could afford a day or two off.

And he didn’t have to worry about any of that right now. It was just him, Patches, and the trees.

They finally slowed down when they neared a pond, sparkling beneath the afternoon sun, a small patch of empty grass lining the edge of it before the treeline began.

It was as good a spot as any, and Dream collapsed onto the ground next to the water, sprawling out on his back, eyes shut.

He felt Patches drop her head onto his stomach as she got comfortable next to him, and they just sat there, listening to the woods around them, and just taking a moment to rest.

Today was a good day, Dream decided.

He reached out to the bag that laid a couple of feet away from him, and pulled out an apple, taking a bite of it as he lazily pet Patches with his other hand.

As he sat in the grass, Patches’ head resting on him, the sun warming the exposed part of his face, Dream thought about the life he had built.

A year ago, if someone had told him he would be on his own, forced out of his home for everything he had done, chased down by his own friends, and living in a secluded house he had made on his own after months of labour, well, Dream may have actually believed them.

But if they had told him he would be this happy with all of that? That’s when he would’ve started laughing.

Now though, looking around him, thinking of the bad days he’d suffered through to get here, and the good days he’d celebrated, on his own but still good, he thinks he would agree.

The absence of his friends still stings, a wound that will never quite heal, but he’s had his fair share of those, and they only get easier to deal with with time.

They still hurt, and there are days where he can’t focus on anything else, but he learns how to deal with that, and he learns that it’s okay to have bad days, no matter what the cause.

_(It’s okay if, some days, he’s stuck in bed, hands covering his ears as tears stream down his face._

_It’s okay if he opens his mouth in an attempt to scream, to be heard by someone, to explain himself or attempt to atone. To beg for forgiveness, to see them again._

_It’s okay if his body trembles as he hugs himself, the absence of anyone next to him obvious, leaving him feeling cold and empty, ice filling his veins as sweat pours down his face._

_It’s okay, because tomorrow he will pick himself back up, and will move on. It may not be great every day, but he makes it through, and that’s enough._

_Sometimes he looks out the window next to his bed, and the stars will stare down, watching over him as he lays there._

_It comforts him, in the dead of night._

_If there is nothing for himself, at least he has the stars to keep his head aimed towards the sky, bright enough for the both of them.)_

And at least he’s not alone now.

Looking down at patches, feeling her breathing against his side, he can’t help but think about how grateful he is for her.

He had forgotten how much he missed the feeling of another presence by his side, someone other than him to keep him company, even if neither of them speak.

They understand each other, and that’s all they need.

Dream squints up at the sun as he opens his eyes, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. It had been a couple of hours since he had left, and if he wanted to be back before nightfall, he should probably get going.

Dream ate the last couple bites of his apple and placed the core back in his bag, it made for good compost for his garden.

He packed up the rest of his stuff, and gently nudged Patches up, before turning and making their way back the way they came.

Today had been a good day.

* * *

After an hour and a half, everyone had finally reconvened, greeting each other in the clearing as they all took it in.

Tubbo’s group had been the first to arrive, Tommy immediately running towards the teen, tackling him in a hug as Quackity followed, landing on the two of them, laughter ringing in the air.

Bad had gone straight for George and Sapnap when his group arrived, pulling both of them into a hug, and looking around the area sandwiched between them, hands interlocked as they took a look around.

Once everyone was settled, they gathered in a group, Techno standing in front of them all as they watched, half distracted by everything around them.

“So,” Techno started, his hands on his hips and voice flat, “it’s pretty obvious this is his house. The crops were replanted recently and the animals are well taken care of, so he obviously still lives here.”

He heard a few gasps at that. It wasn’t exactly new information, but the people who had just gotten here hadn’t had time to truly process what it meant.

Dream was here. Dream was _here._

He could show up any minute. 

They were about to see their friend again, they were so fucking close.

Nothing could go wrong.

“Techno made us wait for all of you guys before we could go into the house,” Tommy cut in, glaring at Techno, “but now that we’re all here we can go check it out!”

“I dunno,” Tubbo said, looking at Eret for a moment before turning back to Tommy, “doesn’t that seem kinda, I dunno, invasive?”

“Yeah,” Niki added, biting her thumb in a nervous tic, “why don’t we just wait for him to come back?”

Everyone considered that for a moment, before Sapnap spoke up, “But what if he’s in trouble! He does have a history of running through the woods on his own, what if there’s a clue or something inside.”

“Oh my god Sapnap,” George said, shoving him slightly, Bad just rolling his eyes at their antics, “ _clues?_ That’s so dumb, this isn’t a horror movie.”

“Yeah well what do you suggest we do, _Gogy?_ ”

“I dunno,” the brunette said, crossing his arms, “I just think your reasoning is dumb.”

Sapnap gasped, placing a hand on his chest and giving George the most offended look he could, “George, I am hurt!”

“Alright you two, come on,” Bad said, hitting the back of their heads lightly, “we need to focus, and agree on what we should do. Who thinks we should go and investigate?”

Everyone looked at each other, before Skeppy, Sapnap, Techno, Tommy, Quackity, and Fundy raised their hands.

Tubbo just looked at Eret who shrugged, “I mean, it probably is an invasion of privacy,” they started, adjusting their glasses, “but I really don’t see any other option. We’re kinda in the dark in this situation, and anything we can find out about what happened while Dream was gone could help.”

Niki frowned, but didn’t offer up any resistance. Tubbo grabbed Eret’s hand and nodded, and Ghostbur just smiled brightly, “I’m fine with whatever!”

“Alright then!” Tommy said, clapping his hands together, “let’s go break into this bitches house!”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if the door is already open,” Sapnap snarked, laughing at the glare the teen shot him.

The group made their way to the house, Sapnap and Tommy taking the lead, George, Techno, Tubbo and Eret close behind, the rest of the group following closely.

Sapnap grabbed the handle and twisted, pushing the door open into the home.

There was a lantern softly glowing on the table in the center of the room, setting everything inside in a warm glow, giving it a homey feel.

There wasn’t much, but it looked well kept, what little furniture that decorated the room showing signs of use, patches sewn into the couch, new tears forming near the bottom.

Everyone filed into the room, small groups making their way to different parts of the home.

Skeppy, Fundy and Eret made their way over to the bookshelf, examining the various books and trinkets he had resting on the shelves, Fundy excitedly flipping through the pages of an old book on redstone, eyes eagerly scanning the pages.

Tommy dragged Tubbo over to the chests in the corner, opening the lids and digging through their contents while chatting, Tommy speaking excitedly to Tubbo as he pulled out various objects or items, Tubbo smiling at him as he listened.

Niki had made her way over to the table, examining the sewing kit left on it with a small smile, going through the contents of the box, blinking tears away as she picked up a shirt that had been left next to it, clearly in need of repair.

Techno and Bad had made their way into the small kitchen off to the side, the sound of cabinets and chests being opened making their way into the main room.

Quackity had dragged Ghostbur over to where Dream’s bed sat. No one was really sure what the two were doing, but they heard Ghostbur laughing as Quackity said something, so they assumed the two were fine.

Finally George and Sapnap made their way to a small table in the corner, one chair sat in front of it, slightly pulled out.

There on the table, sat a small, banged up leather journal, some of its pages clearly bent out of shape, torn out and crumpled up pages scattered beneath the desk.

The two shared a look before heading over, George going for the notebook as Sapnap went for the crumpled paper on the floor.

They read through their respective pages, before George let out a cry, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Everyone looked up at the two, and concern filled their faces as they saw tears gathering in both of their eyes.

“Guys I-” Sapnap said, making eye contact with George, “I think you all need to see these.”

Everyone gathered around the pair, waiting for them to explain. Tommy saw the book in George’s hands and said, “what, did you find like, his diary or something?”

“Close enough,” George said, and placed the book on the table for everyone to read.

_~~to all my friends~~ _

_~~my family,~~ _

_everyone,_

_it’s been a week. it’s cold. i miss you all._

_i can’t stop thinking about it. about what i could’ve done better, how i could’ve been better. it makes me wonder._

_was there ever a future where i got to stay? is there any way i can come ~~home?~~ back?_

_~~i miss you guys, it’s so lonely, i’m so lonely, let me come back~~ _

_i hope you’re well. even if it isn’t with me, i hope you guys are happy. you deserve that, at the very least._

_i’m sorry for what i did, i never thought it would get this far._

_~~i love you all so much, more than i’ve ever loved myself~~ _

_I hope we can meet again,  
Dream_

George flipped the page.

_hey guys,_

_i got the greeting first try this time, are you proud of me?_

_~~please be proud of me~~ _

_i started a farm, it’s nice. It’s a lot of work, but it helps. it distracts me. if i can focus on the crops, i don’t have to think about my life._

_it’s not something i like to think about._

_~~i still do think about it. i think about it being over.~~ _

_~~but then i think of you all, and it gets better. just a bit.~~ _

_maybe someday i could show you around? even just one visit?_

_~~please.~~ _

_i hope things are well in l’manberg, i hope you’re happy._

_~~i love you~~ _

_from,  
Dream_

George flipped the page.

_it’s me again,_

_as if any of you are gonna read these. as if you’d ever want to._

_but it’s nice to pretend. it’s better than accepting the truth._

_i know you all hate me. i hate me too, so i don’t blame you. i did such terrible things, i don’t deserve your forgiveness._

_i don't deserve anything._

_~~i thought of tubbo today. i hope he’s well. it rained the other day. he was always so scared of storms~~ _

_my roof fell in. it’s okay though, i can fix it. once i get my hands to stop shaking and my clothes dry out from the rain._

_it’s okay._

_~~it has to be~~ _

_i hope you guys don’t have any storms soon, i don't want tubbo to get scared and have no one to help him._

_but he has you guys. you can protect him when i can’t, so thank you for that._

_~~i miss you. i love you.~~ _

_~~please say it back.~~ _

_until the next letter,  
Dream_

George flipped the page.

_help,_

_it hruts. so bad._

_my wrsit is broekon_

_it isnt the onlly thing._

_~~why am i liek thiss??~~ _

_~~what didd i do wrogn?~~ _

_tomorrow will be beter :)_

_~~i wish you loved mee.~~ _

_Dream_

George flipped the page.

_i’m sorry about the last note_

_that was not a good day._

_but today is!_

_i sat by the river, and made my first skirt._

_i think it looks nice._

_~~i don’t think i deserve it~~ _

_niki would’ve been proud, i did it all just like she showed me. maybe one day i can show her, if she wants._

_i hope she wants to._

_i can feel my wrist hurting, so i need to make dinner before i can’t move it._

_~~did any of you ever love me? or was it all a lie?~~ _

_love,  
Dream_

George flipped the page.

_the stars look nice tonight._

_the water looks nicer._

George flipped the page.

_i slept on the roof last night. it was nice, being beneath the stars._

_bad would’ve liked it, he always talked about sleeping beneath the stars, about how peaceful it sounded._

_it was, but i still didn’t sleep well._

_~~at least the stars are there. they can’t leave.~~ _

_~~i wonder if they want to.~~ _

_~~probably.~~ _

_i think about you guys a lot. some days i can’t stop._

_those days aren’t very good, but at least i get to see you all._

_i had a dream once. it was like looking through a window, watching all of you together, happy, like a family. i couldn’t get inside, and no one saw me, but it was still nice._

_if i’m to be remembered by one thing, let it be the people i brought together, however it was managed._

_i hope you’re all close, i hope you aren’t mad that i ran, that i didn’t die like you intended. sometimes i’m mad about that, but i hope you’re not._

_i need a reason to be doing this, please._

_maybe my next letter will be better_

_~~has everything just been one big joke? was anything ever real?~~ _

_Dream_

George flipped the page.

_fuck_

_fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfcckufkc_

_~~why were they fucking there what happened why were they there why the FUCK WERE THEY THERE?~~ _

_i’m dead, they’re gonna find me_

_~~i could save them the trouble~~ _

_this is fucked_

_i hope you’re all happy_

_might be seeing you soon,  
Dream_

George flipped the page, and it was completely illegible.

The entire page was scratched out, faint words visible beneath, any meaning covered by the haphazard scratches.

George kept flipping the pages, the rest of them filled with much of the same, some papers torn in places where his pencil had broken through the paper.

Sapnap held up the papers he had found, most of them covered in half written scratched out letters. They could barely make out the different people they were addressed to, one for each person.

They couldn’t see what he had written, but they got the gist of it, based on the force of the pencil on the paper, and the stains from tears left on each page.

“Oh god,” Niki said, her voice weak as her hands covered her mouth, tears pouring from the corner of her eyes.

Everyone sat there, no one speaking, processing what they had just read.

Then, in the silence of the house, not a single person daring to make a sound, a door opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay cliffhanger??
> 
> IM AFDFJFGGHJF IM SORRY ok i did nOT plan to have the cliffhanger at the end, i was supposed to write the actual confrontation this chapter, but then i was 25 pages in and they had Just gotten to that point so i'm breaking it up into two chapters
> 
> i'm actually so happy with how this chapter turned out tho, and the longest one by far, so i hope you guys enjoyed it :)
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SM FOR THE COMMENTS ON MY LAST CHAPTER, I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO REPLY TO THEM, BUT I READ THEM ALL AND THEY MADE ME SMILE SM IM <333 HEART EYES
> 
> anyways i just ly guys sm, thank u for reading my dumb shit <33
> 
> thank u sm to silver for betaing this absolute BEAST of a chapter, ur cool :)
> 
> if you liked the chapter pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc they make me heart eyes
> 
> if ur interested u can find me on insta @caydiink sorry but i gotta get that sweet sweet mcyt clout
> 
> thank you all SO MUCH for reading this, and i will try to get the next chapter out soon :)


	12. confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's time for the confrontation
> 
> (tfw u fuckin SPEEDRUN a chapter bc of all the comments yelling at u for a cliffhanger /j)

Dream froze, the doorknob falling from his grip as it went slack, the door banging into the wall, the sound echoing in the silence.

He couldn’t do anything other than stare, body frozen as he looked at the people in his house.

No one else spoke, everyone watching him, he could feel their eyes on him as they stared, wide and unblinking, searching every inch of him. Too close too close _too close--_

They were here. How the fuck did they get here.

Finally, after months of running and hiding and living and surviving, his past catches up to him.

He never thought the day would come.

“Wha…” is all he can manage, the sound weak and pitiful from his ruined throat, his arms limp at his sides as he looks at each of his friends, eyes glancing around quickly, darting from face to face.

Could he even call them his friends? Is that why they’re here?

Can he apologise? Is he allowed to be welcomed back?

Does he even _want_ to go back?

Someone stands up, and Dream is backing up before he can even process who it was, his mind going blank as panic overrides it. Once he’s backed out of the door by a couple steps, he finally sees Sapnap, standing a few feet closer, arms held out in front of him as if to grab him.

 _(To pull him down, drag him back to fulfil his sentence. They aren’t here to comfort, they’re here to_ contain. __

_You’re a monster, left unchecked for too long. They’ve let you roam free but the gig is up and now they’ve found you and they won’t leave without retribution._

_Your stolen time is up, and they’re here to collect.)_

A whine leaves his throat, and Dream can’t do anything but tense his shoulders and shut his eyes, waiting for their hands to force him down, for a sword to pierce him or an axe to swing, for someone to grab him or hit him or worse.

_(Or never touch him again. To keep their distance, disgusted by his presence. He craves the touch he fears and he could pretend when they weren’t here, when they were miles away and inaccessible._

_But now, with his friends five feet in front of him, he feels like a traitor in his own body, craving the touch he had feared for the past months, heart pounding with dread or longing he couldn’t tell.)_

He waits with bated breath, but nothing happens. After a minute of standing there, listening to everyone, hearing each breath of movement, the slight shuffling of feet or twitching of hands, Dream opened his eyes.

No one had moved, staring at him with mixed emotions. Some stared at him with pity, others with shock, or guilt, or sadness, or fear, or regret.

But the worst was the heartbreak clearly visible on Sapnap, George, and Bad’s faces. Grieving so openly for the friend they had never truly lost, but who remained just out of reach, standing there in front of them, but still untouchable.

“Dream,” Sapnap said, looking as if he wanted to run to him, but staying still, watching Dream closely, eyes following his every move.

“Wow Big D,” Tommy said, his voice strained, in an attempt to lift the tension that had fallen over the room, “you didn’t even invite us in?”

Invite us in?

-us in?

_(“Let us in Dream!” someone yelled, banging on the door, splinters flying, loud cracks echoing in his mind as he cowered._

_Dream was stuck, hands over his head as he curled up, trying futilely to protect himself from the screaming outside. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what they wanted._

_“Just let us in Dream,” someone,_ maybe Sapnap? _yelled from outside, “we just wanna talk dude!”_

_They had never wanted to talk before, why would they want to now? They never let him speak, ignored him when he tried to explain, and whenever they did listen, he would just stand there, struggling to find the words, each sentence coming out wrong as they all got mixed up inside his head._

_Why would they want to talk to someone they thought of as a monster. You don’t speak to beasts before hunting them, how is he any different?_

_He can feel their stares from behind the rotting wood, their eyes piercing him even though he’s hidden from sight. He can feel their looks crawling across his skin. He felt so fucking wrong, but when had he ever been_ right? __

 _They yell to be let in, scream at him to just_ open the fucking door, _but Dream just sits there, chest heaving and tears gathering and his world crashing and burning around him, everything he had worked so hard to achieve turning to ash as he choked on it._

_Dream may be an admin, but he never truly held power._

_Everyone ignored the few rules he placed, going against his every word and hating him simply because he was there, painting him as the villain in their history until he became it, unable to become anything else._

_How does a man, whose every action is painted as a sin, become more than the sinner he’s told he is. How does he grow past that, if any move is wrong so long as it’s made by him?_

_How do you let someone in if you’re already six feet under?)_

Dream blinked his eyes open _(when had they shut?)_ and was met with the sight of his knees curled up towards his chest, his hands covering his ears.

Dream could feel the corner of his house pressing into his back _(it’s so fucking familiar from the nights he spent there, the familiar feeling almost comforting on the nights his shitty bed is just too soft)_

His ears are ringing, but behind the static he can hear snippets of a conversation, angry voices yelling around him, his breath picking up at the tone.

“What the fuck did you….”

“You think…. Didn’t mean to!”

“....was I supposed to know?”

“Should… help him?”

At that suggestion, _(he wanted help so much, but the thought of anyone coming near him made him sick)_ , Dream whipped his head up, tears dripping down his cheeks and face pale, chest still heaving.

He had expected to see everyone crowded around him, to do what he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t expected this.

Patches stood in front of him, teeth bared and claws digging into the wood beneath her feet, growling at anyone who tried to step forward, a warning that was definitely not an empty threat.

_She was protecting him._

That thought alone was almost enough to make Dream weep again. How long had it been since someone stood by his side, protected him not because they needed him, but because they wanted to keep him safe.

When had anyone but himself step forward, stood between him and the world, and put him first, his needs and wants and cares and hopes above their own.

When had he been loved?

Dream had thought his friends loved him. He liked to think that somewhere deep, deep down, they still did.

_(He thought about it late at night, as his chest ached and the air was cold and his eyes were empty, he wondered if he was capable of being loved.)_

His chest hurt from how fast he was breathing, and all Dream could think was _they came all this way to kill me, only to stand there and watch me choke on my own breath._

He wished they hadn’t come.

He couldn’t stop the way his heart swelled at the thought though. The way he ached to stand up and pretend nothing had happened, to be embraced by them all as he’s brought back with open arms.

Dream opened his mouth, but no words came to him. What could he say?

I’m sorry?

Do you still love me?

Have I been good enough?

Was he supposed to beg for forgiveness, or offer his own to them? Neither of those options seemed right, and all Dream could hear was his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears.

He couldn’t breathe, but he felt like if he took one more breath he would vomit, his body clawing for as much air as he could get, shoving everything else out of the way to make room.

 _Something_ must have shown on his face, because Bad took a small step forward, hands raised in a sign of peace, eyes never leaving Dream’s.

“Is it okay if I get close to you Dream?” he asked carefully, stopping after he moved a step closer, Patches’ low growling filling the silence.

_If he gets closer he can take you he can grab you and run he can kill you or lock you up you’re back in a corner and the door is blocked and there’s no way out but through and god he just wanted someone to hold his hand and tell him what to do he was so fucking-_

_god, he was so fucking_ scared.

Dream nodded once, small, and almost unnoticeable, but there was a sigh of relief from everyone in the room as they saw it, eyes trained on the man in the corner, waiting to see what would happen.

Bad smiled, and _fuck that hurt. It was so familiar it ached. Dream wanted to go back to when he saw that smile every day, when him and Bad were friends, when people liked him, when he wasn’t alone or a villain or anything he didn’t want to be-_ and moved closer, taking slow, small steps.

Patches kept her eyes on him, watching every step he took, but she made no move to intervene, moving to sit next to Dream, her body pressing gently into his arm. Close enough to attack, to offer comfort, but not in the way.

Bad knelt down in front of Dream, before speaking gently, “Dream, can I take your hands?”

That would leave him vulnerable, and Bad may be waiting to handcuff him, to tie him up and drag him back, any chance of escape futile.

But, it was Bad. Dream-

Dream trusted him.

He nodded again, and he felt soft hands loosely wrap around his wrists, gently pulling his hands away from where they were gripping the side of his head, blood coating his fingernails from where they had dug into the skin.

Bad frowned at the sight, but didn’t say anything about it as he took Dream’s hands in his own, rubbing small calming circles with his thumbs as Dream sobbed.

“It’s okay Dream,” Bad said, and it really wasn’t, because he had been found, and he didn’t know what was happening, and his body hurt and he was terrified, but if Bad said it was okay, then maybe, just for now, Dream could believe him.

“Do you remember what I taught you?” Bad asked, not waiting for a reply before continuing, “in for four, hold for eight, out for four.”

Dream struggled to draw breath, any attempts at breathing deeply was met with a hiccuping sob and more panic. He gasped for air, shame tugging at his chest at the failure to do something as simple as breathe.

But Bad wasn’t mad, he just smiled encouragingly at Dream, nodding his head as he held Dream’s hands, “you can do it Dream! Just try to copy me.”

And suddenly, it was just Dream and Bad in the room. He wasn’t surrounded, he wasn’t cornered or trapped, he was just hurt and in need of help. And it was just Bad, his friend, holding out his hand and dragging Dream out of the depths of his own mind, the greatest prison there was.

They sat like that for a while, Dream blind to anything that wasn’t Bad, and the demon just sat there, whispering encouragement as Dream’s breathing slowly evened out, tears still streaming down his cheeks, but finally he could breathe.

Dream took a deep breath, and stared at Bad, praying the man understood what he meant without him having to say anything.

 _Thank you,_ his eyes said, _you helped me._

_I love you._

His eyes said everything he never could, and sitting there on the floor, with Bad in front of him, Dream felt like someone was finally listening.

“Better?” Bad asked, squeezing his hand gently. Dream just nodded, pulling one of his hands out of his grip to wipe the tears away, limbs shaking as the adrenaline left his body.

Now that he wasn’t blinded by panic, Dream processed the situation.

His friends were here. In front of him. And they hadn’t killed him, hadn’t taken advantage of him while he was weak and vulnerable.

They easily could’ve killed him then, left his body to rot in the corner of the home they had stumbled into. But they didn’t.

They helped him.

Suddenly, Dream pushed himself up, hands leaning against the wall to balance himself, standing on shaky legs, but turning to face the group regardless.

Bad looked at him, expression unreadable as he watched Dream, before he stood up as well, backing up to join the rest of the group after staring at Dream with something close to longing.

They looked at each other for a moment, no one moving, before suddenly-

“Long time no see.”

George spoke up, his goggles in his hands as he toyed with them nervously, looking at Dream, a million different emotions shining in his eyes.

Dream just nodded, looking back at him.

“I uh, I like the skirt,” Eret said, and of fucking course that’s what Eret would say, it was so like _them_ that Dream couldn’t help but smile.

God, he had missed them all so fucking much. And now they were here, in front of them, and Dream didn’t know what to do.

Instead of thinking about everything that was happening, Dream just gripped the skirt in both of his hands, swaying it a bit as everyone watched.

“Did you make it?” Niki asked, her voice hesitant, but there was a hint of something, hope, hidden beneath.

He nodded, and looked up to meet her eyes. She smiled at him, and the skirt slipped from Dream’s grasp.

Dream looked back at Eret, and suddenly he was searching the crowd, looking for one face in particular, trying to find him.

There, standing next to Tommy, his mouth open, tears already gathering in his eyes.

Dream cleared his throat, already wincing at the action, but he forced himself to continue. To speak up before he lost his nerve.

“Tubs…?”

And then Tubbo was running at him, arms wide and tears falling, and Dream could do nothing but open his arms and catch his brother, pulling him close and burying his face in his hair.

“I’m so sorry Dream,” Tubbo sobbed, clinging onto his shirt, face buried in Dream’s neck, “it’s been so lonely, and everything has felt so _wrong._ I thought it was the right decision, I really did, but it hurt so much while you were gone, and no one knew if you were okay, and I-I-”

Dream just rubbed his back, hands shaking as he ran the other one through his hair, calming his brother as best as he could.

Dream pulled back, gripping Tubbo’s face in both of his hands, trying his best to say _it’s okay, you’re alright,_ with one look.

Tubbo’s eyes shined bright with tears as he looked at Dream, and he just nodded, throwing himself back at Dream, wrapping him up in another hug.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, and all Dream could do was pull him close, and left the _me too_ unsaid, but still there.

Everyone else watched the two interact, tears of their own threatening to spill as the two interacted. It was quiet for a moment, before Techno spoke up.

“I hate to interrupt,” he said, his voice monotone, but there was an edge to it that no one had heard before, “but I think we need to talk about this.”

Dream looked up from over Tubbo’s shoulder, and just nodded, eyes resigned.

He slowly pulled away from Tubbo, hand quickly grabbing his as they parted, and the two made their way over to the small seating area together, the two of them sitting down on one of the couches.

Sapnap, George, and Bad took the other couch as Techno, Tommy, and Eret sat on the floor in front of them, everyone else standing or leaning on something else, giving Dream as much space as they could in the small room.

Dream’s breath picked up as he saw everyone, circling around him, backing him up into a corner, pushing him back further and further never relenting until they-

Tubbo squeezed his hand, and Dream turned to look at him, Tubbo’s slightly shaky smile drawing Dream from his thoughts.

Bad smiled, that same comforting smile, their eyes meeting with an unspoken _you’re okay._

Patches strode to his side, pressing against his thigh comfortingly and visibly unnerving everybody else. Dream would have laughed in any other scenario.

He turned to look at the others, taking a deep breath _(“In for four, hold for eight, and out for four!” Bad’s voice reminded him in his head)_ and nodded, meeting Techno’s eyes.

An awkward silence fell over the group, no one sure what to say, looking to each other to be the first one to speak.

Finally, Sapnap hesitantly spoke up, “So,” he asked, fingers tugging at a loose thread on his shirt, “how have you been?”

George snorted, rolling his eyes and shoving Sapnap lightly. “Seriously?” he asked, “‘how have you been?’ Great question Sapnap.”

Sapnap turned red with embarrassment, “C’mon man!” he yelled, hand waving, “I panicked!”

Dream let out a small laugh, and went to answer, to make a snarky comment or small jab at Sapnap, like they used to, when he let out a small whine.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Dream’s eyes went wide, the hand that wasn’t holding Tubbo’s coming up to gently claw at his throat.

“Oh shit,” Fundy said, standing up from where he had been leaning against the table, “your throat.”

A couple of people shot Fundy a confused look, the rest looking at Dream with various sad expressions, eyes filled with pity as he shut his eyes.

Before Fundy could explain, Techno spoke up. “He probably can’t talk,” he explained, eyes staying on Dream the entire time, “it’s been so long, his throat isn’t used to it anymore.”

“Oh shit…” Sapnap agreed, furrowing his brows as he looked at Dream.

“The journal!” Tommy exclaimed, and everyone flinched at the mention of it, before he quickly continued, “I mean, like, to write in, ya know? So he can still answer our questions and shit.”

Someone said something in response, but Dream’s ears had started ringing, and it was lost beneath the noise.

_they found the fucking journal, they weren’t supposed to see that, it was for me, and me alone, now they know. They know I’m not worthy of this second chance. I’m damaged goods, not worth their time. They’re gonna-_

Suddenly, a journal was being placed in his hands, a pencil following quickly after, and Dream looked up to see Quackity, an awkward smile on his lips as he shrugged.

“There ya go man,” he said, walking back over to where he had been standing behind Tommy, “I’m the fastest bitch here after all, so I thought it would be the least I could do to grab it for you.”

Everyone ignored Tommy’s indignant _’you are not!’_ and watched Dream crack open the journal.

He was met with his own writing staring back at him, and Dream just looked at it, eyes tracing each stroke of the pencil.

_(He could recite each page by heart, with the amount of times he had read them, blank eyes staring at the pages until the words were burned into his memory, bold against the rest of his thoughts like the stars at night.)_

Then Dream flipped halfway through the book, landing on a blank page. He gripped the pencil tightly, his hand shaking, but he placed the tool against the paper, and began to write.

Dream held the book up, showing off what he had written to everyone gathered around him.

_hi. i missed you all._

“Oh _Dream,_ ” Sapnap drawled, hand placed over his heart, “we missed you too.”

He started writing again, brow furrowed as his pencil moved across the page.

_don’t lie to me, it isn’t funny._

Sapnap’s persona dropped as he read the page, looking up at Dream.

“You think we’re lying?” Eret asked, crossing their arms as they spoke, expression hidden behind their glasses.

Dream just nodded as if it were obvious. He knew no one missed him, they didn’t have to pretend.

“Dream,” Tubbo said from beside him, eyes still red from when he had been crying earlier, face open and honest, “we aren’t lying. We all missed you, nothing was the same with you gone.”

The words rang in his mind, playing over and over.

_They missed him? They wanted him? He was good?_

Dream floundered, eyes searching everyone’s faces, trying to find any hint of a lie, but he was only met with even stares and small smiles.

After staring for a few moments, Dream finally gave a small nod. He saw everyone in the room relax slightly at that, an air of relief over everyone.

“What,” George spoke up, staring at Dream, “what _happened_ Dream? Why did you run, that day in the woods? Why didn’t you come back?”

Dream thought for a moment, before he began to write.

_i thought you were going to hurt me again. i was scared. i’m sorry._

George’s eyes filled with tears as he read the page, covering his mouth with his hand as Bad grabbed the other one, looking just as distraught.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Dream,” Niki choked out, tears of her own welling up, guilt written plainly across her face.

“Do you still think that?” Techno asked, staring at Dream with his brows furrowed, as if he were trying to solve a very intricate puzzle, “Do you still think we’re gonna hurt you?”

Dream thought about it.

If they were going to hurt him, surely they would’ve done it already. Why would they wait? He had been vulnerable and weak, it would’ve been so easy, but here he sat, no one making a move towards him.

_(He remembers standing there, blood covering his shaking form as he gasped in pain from the newest arrow now stuck in his shoulder, blood bubbling up in his throat._

_Bad was standing across from him, hands held out, a nervous smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes._

_“It’s okay Dream,” Bad had said, stepping forward slowly, “we can talk this out, yeah?”_

_Dream was ready to agree, ready to be done with the fighting and the bloodshed, and he was ready to have his fucking friends back._

_Dream took a step towards Bad, hands clenching his stomach as he tried not to throw up._

_Then a sword pierced his side, someone having snuck up behind him while he was distracted._

_Dream whipped around, turning face to face with Fundy, eyes meeting even from behind the mask._

_He tried to speak up, to say something,_ anything, _but all that came out was blood, spraying across the inside of his mask, dripping down his chin._

_Dream stepped back off of the sword, and the fight began again, any promise of peace, of a chance to talk was gone, his guard lowered at the small glimpse of hope, now stolen from his grasp yet again._

_He was left empty handed and alone as he ran from everyone, broken promises and empty words echoing through his mind as he ran, never looking back.)_

Maybe once, Dream would be sure that his friends would never hurt him. Maybe, in another life, he still was.

But here and now, their last interaction hanging over everyone like a guillotine, ready to drop at any moment, broken promises shattered, the pieces already cut too deep to be fixed, Dream couldn’t be sure.

No matter how far his friends stayed away, no matter how much space they gave him or whatever kind words they said, Dream could never be sure if it was real.

He could never be sure if they would turn on him again, like they had all those months ago.

Dream nodded at Techno, avoiding everyone’s eyes as he stared down at his own hands, scarred and rough, twisting into the fabric of his skirt, pulling at the seams.

He could hear a few gasps, a choked sob from who was most likely Niki, and a deep sigh from Techno.

He was ready for their anger, for them to scream at him _that’s not fair, it’s your fault we had to hurt you in the first place, you don’t get to be upset,_ but it never came.

Instead, Techno just spoke, resignation heavy in his voice, “Alright, that’s fair.”

His head shot up, and he met the hybrid’s eyes, searching for the anger he had been so ready to hear, only to find no trace of it, just a hint of compassion, of understanding, hidden beneath the cold uncaring exterior.

Another silence full upon everyone, but Dream barely noticed, still processing Techno’s words as he sat there, eyes blank and staring ahead, open but unseeing.

He was broken from his stupor when Quackity suddenly spoke up, “I uh, I like the new mask,” he said awkwardly, letting out a slight chuckle.

Dream went to write a response, to explain what it meant, how much it mattered to him, but he winced as he picked up the pencil, his wrist flaring in pain, the stress of the past fifteen minutes aggravating the old wound.

It went unnoticed by no one, and people were quick to comment.

“Dream, what happened, are you okay?” Sapnap said, eyes filled with concern, leaning forward as if he wanted to go help his friend.

“Oh no, Dream! Are you hurt? Do you need any help?” Bad asked, eyes wide as he looked down at Dream’s wrist, searching for any sign of injury.

Tubbo tugged on the hand he was holding, leaning over to see Dream’s wrist, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he looked at it, trying to find the problem and fix it.

Techno just looked at his wrist then up at Dream, narrowing his eyes as he spoke up. “Old injury?” he asked, eyes looking at him with sympathy, his voice kind despite the anger hidden beneath.

_(He had been shoved down, his back landing harshly in the dirt as he slid, rocks scraping at his exposed skin, digging into any part of him they could reach._

_Dream quickly held his hand up as a shield was brought down, aiming for his head, trying to protect himself as best as he could._

_Techno heard the crack, feeling the bone snap as he held the shield, the swing meant to knock Dream out missing its mark, instead landing on the man’s wrist._

_Dream cried out in pain, cradling the limb to his chest, the wrist already beginning to swell, red and inflamed, a deep purple bruise beginning to form where the shield hit._

_Blood began to pour down his arm from where the skin had split beneath the force of the shield, skin stained red as it flowed._

_Techno looked down at the man beneath him, and felt nothing but guilt in that moment. He had meant to knock the man out, in an attempt to put a halt to the war for at least a moment._

_He hadn’t meant to break his wrist, he hadn’t meant to cripple the man fighting a war with only himself to fight beside. Techno may be fighting against Dream, but it was just cruel, to take away one of his only assets, one of the only ways he could defend himself._

_In that moment Techno paused, Dream had taken a breath, biting his tongue as he stood, broken wrist cracking more as he forced it to move, grabbing his axe from where it had fallen, and taking a weak swing at Techno, forcing the stunned man to step back._

_It startled the hybrid, but couldn’t keep him from hearing the pained cry Dream let out as he swung, tears mixing with the blood coating his face, hand trembling as it held onto the axe._

_Dream looked at Techno, then down at his wrist, noticing the reinforcements making their way towards the two._

_He turned and ran, wrist cradled close to his chest, tears flowing freely, hidden beneath the mask.)_

Dream just nodded, clenching and unclenching his fingers, trying to gauge how bad it was. After doing that a couple of times, Dream held his hand up, showing off the injury.

The was a long, faded scar across the top of his wrist, and Techno recognised it as where the edge of his shield had made contact, wincing at the reminder of what he had done.

His wrist jutted out at an odd angle, clearly showing where the bone had healed poorly, never having been rebroken or put into place, bone fusing together at odd angles, leaving the wrist permanently scarred.

Everyone winced as they looked at the damage, guilt a heavy weight on each of their shoulders, none more so than Techno, staring at the consequences of his past actions, unable to do anything but stare.

“I’m,” Techno said, mouth dry as he struggled for words, “I’m so fucking sorry Dream, I didn’t know it was gonna be that bad.”

Dream frowned, staring at Techno, before waving his hand, nothing more than a slight wince at the initial movement coming from the action, as if to say _it’s okay._

But it wasn’t, not really. None of this was okay.

_(That was the thought playing constantly in the back of Dream’s mind. None of this was okay, it never truly could be okay again, why fool himself like this, only to ultimately be let down._

_He pushed the thoughts down. Nothing may ever be okay, but it could be better.)_

Everyone was silent as they took in what had just been revealed, minds stuck in the past as they thought back to the fight that started this all, the choices they had made and relationships they had broken.

Finally, Tubbo spoke up quietly, looking at Dream, hope shining in his eyes. “Will you come home? With us?”

Dream paused, thrown by the question.

 _Would_ he go home?

This was everything he had wanted, he had hoped for these past months. Dream had longed to be asked to go home, to join the family again, to be back where he belonged, back with his friends, his _family._

But, he also remembers the hateful words, the anger and shouts that were screamed by both sides, no one leaving the battle unscathed, blood drawn from all parties.

He thinks about how betrayed he had felt, being forced out of his own land, hunted down like nothing more than an animal, any shred of humanity he had left stripped away.

Dream had lost everything, had struggled his way back up from the bottom, making his way with no one but himself, and living. Dream had made it through, had _survived._

And now, he was being offered, what, help? Help for what, he had already pushed himself back up, the dirt and blood still clung to his hands, but he was on his feet, slowly making his way back.

Dream had missed everyone so fucking much, but did he want to go back?

Go back to what?

A home where people look at him as something broken, something that needs to be treated with care, or else he will break apart in front of them. 

Something weak.

_(Dream pushed down the instinct in him that screamed to be taken care of, to let someone hold him and treat him gently as he had never had before._

_It yelled at him to push down his pride and accept the help, to grab the hand that was offered and run, never looking back at the memories of this place he had built.)_

This house he had built was filled with regret, memories of a worse time lined the walls, woven into the seams, filling the cracks and threatening to spill over.

But it also brought a sense of hope, of accomplishment. This house was proof that he had won. He had been beaten down and come back swinging, fighting back in his own way.

This house was proof that he was good enough to live, and Dream wasn’t sure if he was ready to leave it.

Tubbo must have seen the hesitation on his face, because his expression dropped, filling with something akin to understanding, pulling Dream’s arm closer.

Dream wrote, the others watching in silence, waiting to see what he would say.

 _i’m sorry,_ it began, _i don’t think i can go back. not yet._

George let out a pained whine, “So we can’t see you? At all? We came all this way, Dream please, just think about it.”

Dream just shook his head, holding up his hand before beginning to write again.

_not yet. not now. everything still hurts, and i can’t deal with it right now._

_but, you could visit. if you want. it would be nice to see you all, even if i can’t go back with you. i’m sorry._

“Oh Dream,” Bad said, wiping a tear away as he looked at his friend, “of course we’ll visit! As long as you want us here, we will be, I promise.”

Eret nodded, “It’s okay to not want to come back, I honestly don’t blame you. Visiting sounds nice though,” they said, looking between Dream and Tubbo, a bittersweet smile on their face.

“Yeah!” Tubbo said, perking up again at the new plan, “it’ll be fun! Like a sleepover!” he said, smiling wide as he looked up at Dream.

Dream’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, and his hand came up to ruffle Tubbo’s hair, the action so familiar it left a pang in his heart.

He hadn’t realised how much he had missed this. The small interactions, small moments shared with his friends, quiet moments hidden beneath soft smiles.

Tension was still thick between them, but something had lifted, ever so slightly, giving them all just a bit more room to breathe.

“God Dream,” Sapnap said, eyes glancing to Dream’s wrist as he spoke before flicking back up to meet Dream’s, “I’m just- fuck- I’m so sorry man. I don’t know how you’re even talking to us right now, we don’t deserve it.”

Dream shot a confused look at Sapnap, before quickly writing something down, turning the book hurriedly to show the man.

_it isn’t your fault, i was bad. it had to be done._

“But it fucking didn’t!” Sapnap yelled, standing from the couch, chest heaving as he ranted, eyes shining with unshed tears, “we didn’t have to do any of this! We could’ve tried to talk to you, or- or- or something! But we fucking didn’t!”

“Sapnap,” Bad said, eyeing Dream as his friend ranted, noting the way Dream curled into himself.

Sapnap didn’t pay the man any mind though, continuing on with his rant. “Everything got fucked up, and then you just ran, and it was so fucking scary Dream. We didn’t know if you had died, or if you were hurt, or where you were, and it sucked!

None of that had to fucking be done, so stop acting like it’s okay!”

Dream stared forward, and all he could hear was _anger anger he’s so angry at you you fucked it all up they don’t want you anymore-_

_(Dream can’t tell if the floor beneath him is the house he made with his own two hands, or that storage room, suffocating him as he curled up, trying to protect himself._

_Had he ever left? Was anything around him real? Or just a fantasy his mind had created as he lived through the last moments of his life, a merciful release from the harsh reality._

_He didn’t know where he was, but he knew there were people yelling, yelling at_ him. _Dream didn’t know why, but he knew he deserved it, he always did._

_His arms covered his head as his knees drew closer to his chest, and that was all Dream could do to protect himself. He had nothing left, no trick to play, no way out._

_Dream just had to wait in this fucking corner, splinters of wood stabbing into his sides, as he heard people shouting for his blood._

_They were so fucking angry._

_Dream didn’t know what he did to make them hate him, but also everything he did had been wrong._

_He had so many regrets, it was a shame he’d die before he got to make them right._

_Or maybe this was how he atoned, how he made it up to the world he had failed so spectacularly. The countless lives he had ruined in exchange for his own._

_An eye for an eye._

_Dream squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the door to break open, for his past to finally catch up._

_And he waited._

_And he waited._

_And he waited-_

And Dream opened his eyes, gasping for air as his hands, which had found their way into his hair, tightened their grip, tugging at the strands painfully.

Everyone had stood up, circling around Dream, trying to see if he was okay, Sapnap stayed near the back, guilt and grief a heartbreaking mixture on his face.

_(Dream hated himself when he felt relief spark inside of him. Sapnap’s shouts still echoing in his head, the anger in his voice only getting louder and louder as he repeated it over and over.)_

They were all looking at him, fucking pitying him, looking at him as if he were weak, and maybe he was, and they were all so close too close they were here to kil him they were hunting him they cornered him they-

“Get...out.”

Everyone started at the sound of Dream’s voice, a low croak, loud enough in the silence of the room.

“Dream, what-” Tommy asked, eyes filled with concern and confusion.

Dream had had enough though, and he shot to his feet, tears falling down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

_Why couldn’t they just fucking listen to him?_

“I said… Get out!”

Sapnap stepped forward, cheeks damp from tears and his hand tightly gripping George’s, Bad’s hand resting on his arm, “Dream, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, please don’t make us leave, I’m-”

Dream held his hand up to cut Sapnap off, and took a deep breath, before forcing out one more word.

“Go.”

Techno looked between the two, and nodded, grabbing Tommy by the arm and beginning to lead them out, praying the rest would follow him, “We’re going Dream. We’ll visit in a week or so, if that’s okay with you?”

Dream looked at the floor, his hands digging into the fabric of his skirt, knuckles white from the force he used. He didn’t bother trying to speak, his throat burning from the amount he had already spoken, instead giving one nod in confirmation.

He heard someone start to speak up, but they were quickly pulled out of the room, everyone offering apologies or goodbyes as they left the house, promising to return the next week.

Before he could turn around, Dream felt a pair of arms wrap around him, hugging him from behind.

Dream’s hands reach up to squeeze Tubbo’s, offering any form of comfort he could in that moment.

“I’ll see you in a week,” Tubbo said, burying his face in Dream’s back before turning and walking out of the house.

Dream turned, assuming everyone had left, only to be met with his other sibling, standing next to the door, his mouth set in a line.

He met Eret’s eyes, head tilting in confusion, before they spoke.

“I really did miss you, you know,” they said, “I mean, we all did, but, it just wasn’t the same without you.”

Dream stood there, tears gathering in his eyes as he watched Eret, studying them as they stood there.

And then Dream ran forwards, pulling them into a tight hug, burying his face in their neck and sobbing.

Eret rubbed his back as they held him, placing a quick kiss against his temple.

“You’re okay Dream, you did good.”

And for once, as Dream stood there, held tightly in Eret’s arms, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he was worthy of love.

Eret pulled away after Dream’s sobs had quieted, patting his back once more before stepping back, smiling at Dream as they parted.

“I’ll see you next week, Dream.”

Dream wiped his eyes, sniffing before pulling down the mask, offering Eret the first genuine smile he’d had in months, and nodded.

Pulling up his mask, Dream stood in the doorway, watching as Eret rejoined the group waiting outside for them, and smiled as he watched Tubbo immediately latch onto them, saying something Dream couldn’t hear.

He felt Patches walk up next to him, rubbing her head against his thigh, and Dream, for the first time in months, felt hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, there u go :)
> 
> AFDFHFBHFGGFG y'all THOUGHT i was gonna have dream dip again, but jokes on u!! he just had like 12 panic attacks!!
> 
> IM JK ABJHDFBHJFGBHG thank u all SM FOR UR COMMENTS IM <33 THEY WERE SO NICE I READ THEM ALL LIKE 3 TIMES!!
> 
> we are getting close to the end of this main fic, and are now finally getting to the main Comfort part of hurt/comfort :)
> 
> i hope u all enjoyed this chapter afdfjhfghjfg this was probably one of the most difficult ones to write just bc i suck at dialogue, so pls enjoy <33 ik a lot of people didnt speak but they were there for moral support
> 
> if u enjoyed pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc they make me heart eyes
> 
> if ur interested u can find me @caydiink on instagram as well :)
> 
> thank u for reading!! <33


	13. communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a lil while but :) new chapter! This one was almost 30 pages long, so, pog?
> 
> TW: Discussion of suicide in Eret and Tubbo's segment, nothing super explicit but just a warning. There is also vomiting during Dream's panic attack in Eret and Tubbo's segment, when they go to the shed, so be careful with that! Lmk if theres anything else I should put a warning for!

True to their word, a week went by before anyone visited.

Techno had been the first to visit, but he wasn’t alone.

Dream opened the door when he heard the knock, hair pulled back into a loose bun and a white blouse tucked into his skirt, Patches asleep on the carpet behind him.

Looking at the two people in front of him, Dream’s eyes widened in shock.

Techno was there, eyes bored but a small smile pulling at his lips, just barely visible. He looked relaxed, usual cape traded for a simple jacket instead, long hair pulled back into a tight braid.

Who stood next to him though, was what shocked Dream.

Next to Techno was Philza, his signature bucket hat pushed up slightly and eyes bright, a smile already breaking out as he offered Dream a quick wave, shrugging slightly.

Dream looked at Techno, confusion evident as his eyes flicked between the two. Why was Phil here? Where was everyone else?

_(Dream was relieved, if he was being honest. He had been riddled with anxiety the entire week, the thought of facing everyone at once again, having all of them stare at him, expecting something from him he didn’t know how to give._

_It had_ terrified _him. The bags under his eyes were deep, and his hands had a near-constant tremble._

_Seeing Techno and Phil alone at the door had sent a wave of relief so strong through Dream he had nearly collapsed. The guilt that followed after left him grasping for the doorframe.)_

Dream couldn’t help but worry though. How much did Phil know? Would Dream have to explain everything again? He must have questions, they both must. Nothing would be the same again, he had ruined everything. They were going to hate him and question him and-

“This is a nice place you have here!” Phil said, looking around, eyes scanning the room from above Dream’s shoulder, “I’m impressed!”

Dream stood there in shock, unsure how to respond. Where was the anger? The blame? The accusations? It couldn’t be this easy.

“I thought,” Techno started, making eye contact with Dream as he spoke, voice calm and a familiar sound to the building panic in Dream’s chest, “that it’d be better to come in small groups. A little less hectic, ya know?”

Dream swallowed and nodded, looking at Phil quickly before his eyes darted away, unable to meet the man’s eyes.

Dream didn’t deserve this kindness. They shouldn’t stay away for his sake, he could take it. Dream wasn’t weak, he could handle a couple hours of socializing. It didn’t matter if the thought terrified him, or his hands shook just thinking about it. None of that _mattered-_

Techno cut through his thoughts as he spoke, as if he could read Dream’s mind. “Honestly,” he began, watching Dream through narrowed eyes, “I’m glad we left the other losers at home. You’re the only one I respect, Phil.”

Phil laughed at that, lightly shoving Techno’s shoulder as the hybrid smiled, eyes immediately softening as he gazed at the older man. Dream found himself smiling at the scene, even if his panic and fear still sat heavy in his stomach, not gone, just pushed down and left to fester.

“Now, are you gonna invite us in, Dream? Or are we gonna have to spend the next couple of hours on your porch?” Techno asked, the familiar dry tone like music to Dream’s ears.

He nodded quickly and stepped back, letting the two into his home, trailing in behind them and shutting the door quietly behind them.

Techno immediately made his way over to Patches, scratching her head as she purred, Phil watching them with a soft smile on his face.

“Techno likes pets,” Phil said to Dream as he stood next to the man,, crossing his arms awkwardly, “he wouldn’t shut up about the ‘cool death cat’ you had apparently found.”

Techno let out an offended noise, turning his head to glare at Phil. “You were told that in confidence that it would stay between us,” he said, voice filled with mock offense, “c’mon man, not cool.”

Phil laughed again, and Dream couldn’t help but chuckle at the banter. Watching the two interact was refreshing. he had forgotten people could just _talk,_ without there being some hidden meaning or facade hidden between the lines.

The two visitors turned to look at Dream, Phil donning a surprised but happy look, and Techno just looked at him with his eyes slightly wide, as if that was the last thing he had expected Dream to do.

Dream just brushed the looks off, ignoring their stares as he walked to the couch, motioning for them to follow as he sat down.

Techno and Phil sat next to each other on one of the couches as Dream sat on the other, pulling his legs beneath him as he dropped gracelessly onto the seat.

“So,” Phil said, clasping his hands together, “how have things been?”

Dream tried to speak, but when nothing managed to make its way out of his throat, he rolled his eyes and grabbed his journal off the table in front of him, quickly writing down a reply.

_alright. pretty quiet. the animals are good though. it’s starting to get colder, which won’t be that fun, but it’s okay._

Phil smiled after reading the page, leaning back as he looked Dream up and down, taking in his appearance. 

“You look good,” he said, watching the way Dream held himself, shoulders slumped, hands resting calmly in his lap. It was so different from how he was used to seeing the leader, shoulders always tight with tension, back straight and hands clenched, “it’s nice to see you like this.”

Dream blinked, looking at Techno who just nodded in agreement.

 _thank you._ he wrote, _i feel good too, i think._

There was a moment of silence before Dream began to write again, questions overtaking his mind as he watched the two men.

_are you not gonna ask me anything? about everything that happened?_

Phil frowned, making eye contact with Techno before leaning forward, eyes connecting with Dream.

He looked deep in thought, considering his next words, and Dream waiting patiently, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand as he let Phil think.

“I’m not gonna ask you anything about the situation, partly because Techno filled me in,“ Phil said, eyes locked on Dream as he spoke. He tensed at that. 

_What had Techno told him? Did he tell him how awful I was? How I ran, like a coward, instead of facing my mistakes and fighting like a man?_

“He just gave me a brief overview, don’t worry,” Phil said, gaze softening as he watched Dream slowly tense up, shoulders rising and chest starting to heave, “but I’m not gonna ask any questions because I don’t wanna freak you out, yeah?”

Dream paused, considering his words. Make _him_ uncomfortable? Why should that matter? This was his fault, after all, the least he could do was explain himself.

“We’re here to visit you, not interrogate you,” Techno cut in, eyes meeting Dream’s, searching for something. They stared at each other for a moment before Techno looked away, seemingly satisfied with what he saw.

Dream looked at Techno with confusion for a moment, before reaching forward to where his journal sat on the table, wincing as his wrist twinged in pain, his fingers twitching for a moment before falling still when he pulled the hand back, clutching it to his chest.

“That looks like it hurt,” Phil said, not unkind _why was he so nice Dream doesn’t deserve it,_ watching Dream with sad eyes beneath his hat, “d’you mind if I take a look?”

Dream narrowed his eyes, pulling his hand closer to himself in caution. 

He knew that Phil was trustworthy. Dream was friends with Techno, how couldn’t he after the amount of time he’d spent listening to the hybrid talk about the man? 

But hearing it wasn’t the same as believing it, and now, in his living room, looking at the man sitting across from him, expression so genuine and open, Dream didn’t know what to do.

Techno just watched the interaction play out, legs crossed and one hand playing with some of his hair absentmindedly. He could only sit back and hope Phil could do this, because if this didn’t work, if Dream kept pushing them away, Techno wasn’t sure what they _could_ do.

It was so painfully obvious that Dream couldn’t stand to be in the same room as any of them, Phil had been his last hope.

He was the only one Techno knew of who hadn’t been involved in the war, the _manhunt_ more accurately.

Maybe, if Dream saw someone who he hadn’t categorized as an enemy, no matter how much he claimed otherwise, just maybe he could bring his friend back.

Dream looked at Phil, and thought about everyone he had trusted before.

He thought about everyone he had followed blindly, and who had trusted him in return. He thought about the people he turned on, the hurt he caused, and everyone who had turned on him in the end.

He thought he could trust them all, maybe, somewhere deep down, he still did. But now, having lived through everything he had, was it worth it?

Was it worth it to risk the life he had built. A life of solitude, but at least it was safe. It was his, and his alone.

_But it didn’t have to be._

Dream could reach out his hand right now, it would be so easy.

He looked at Phil, and all he saw was a man, concerned for someone he had no need to be concerned for. He saw kindness, and love, and sorrow hidden beneath but still there, and Dream saw everything he had wished to see on his friends’ faces.

_(Dream reached his hand out as he pushed himself back. His arm shook, but he hoped that maybe, they would forgive him just this once._

_Maybe someone would take his hand and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay, that he could put down his axe and rest and he would be safe no matter what._

_Or maybe they would see how weak he was and make it quick. They would see how hurt he was already, and find no need to drag it out any longer._

_If Dream was to die, he didn’t want to lie in wait, in agony as he waited for his last breath to leave his lungs, and his heart to beat a final time._

_Dream looked up into the faces of his friends-turned-enemies, and he could see the regret behind their eyes, forced down as they advanced._

_Dream closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable, his hand held out in front of him, as if that alone could protect him from the horrors he had seen and done.)_

Finally, Dream held out his hand, placing it gently into Phil’s. His eyes were wide and his body trembled ever so slightly, but he nodded anyways.

Phil just smiled, Techno breathing a sigh of relief beside him, and got to work. He gently took Dream’s hand, twisting it and testing the joints, looking back at Dream every so often to make sure he wasn’t hurting him.

He noted every wince or noise of discomfort Dream would let out, apologizing each time, Dream just waving him off with his good hand.

Techno talked as Phil worked. He told Dream what had been going on ever since he left, catching him up on everything important, voice casual.

It was like he was just here for a visit. Two friends catching up, falling into a similar rhythm, conversation easy between the two, even if one of them never spoke.

_(It was so familiar, the dynamic, but so different._

_Dream had gotten so used to being the one who spoke constantly, able to ramble on about nothing just to fill the silence, speaking for Techno, who he knew was still listening, despite his lack of response._

_It was jarring, to see the roles reversed. He had gotten so used to it, so familiar with it. When had it changed?_

_When will things stop changing? When can he return to everything he knew, how it used to be?_

_Dream knew the answer, he simply refused to accept it.)_

Dream found himself getting lost in the rhythm of Techno’s voice, Phil’s hands on his, it was calming, and Dream could feel himself relaxing his muscles from where they had been tensed, ready to run at any moment.

He felt safe.

_(Finally.)_

Once Philza had finished examining his hand, he looked up at Dream, face carefully blank.

“Well, I tested the bone, looked at how your joints were workin’, all that shit,” he said, carefully choosing each word.

“And?” Dream asked, the sound of his voice enough to startle Philza out of his uninterested mask, leaving shock and guilt in its place.

“And…” Phil said, eyeing Techno before returning to Dream, taking a deep breath, “it’s pretty much fucked.”

Dream’s stomach dropped.

He knew it was fucked, he knew there wasn’t any hope, he had known it throughout the days and weeks and months of crippling pain. Dream had _known._

So why did he feel like crying?

Phil must have seen something in Dream’s expression, because he hurried to continue. “I’m sorry Dream,” he said, and to his credit he did sound genuinely sorry, “but the bone’s healed all wrong, and it’s been so long, I don’t think there’s much we can do at this point.”

Dream could feel tears stinging behind his eyes, but he forced them back, taking a shaky breath and nodding at Phil.

Techno, who had been watching the two silently, decided to break into the conversation.

“I’m sorry too,” he said, taking a deep breath and avoiding Dream’s eyes as he spoke, “it’s my fault it happened, and now your wrist is all fucked and shit, and I just-”

He cut himself off, looking at Phil for a moment before his eyes turned back to his hands in his lap, playing with the edge of his coat.

“I’m just real sorry. I dunno how hard it is, to not, ya know, be able to use your wrist or whatever, but I know it ain’t easy. I don’t think I’d have handled it as well as you, if i’m being honest.”

He motioned to Dream with one hand, gesturing at him loosely as guilt clung to him. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. That whole fight was awful for everyone, but you’re the one who has to live with the reminder of what happened every day, and that just isn’t fair,” he said, eyes tracing each one of Dream’s scars, visible beneath Dream’s clothes.

“I know what it’s like, to feel trapped, like there’s no way out but _through,”_ Techno said, ignoring the way Phil looked at him in concern, placing a reassuring hand on his arm as Techno spoke.

“But I’m here for you now, we all are. I know you probably think that it’s fake, or whatever bullshit is playing through your head right now, but I want to help you now,” Techno said, shoulders hunched, “if you, ya know, you’re cool with that or whatever.”

Dream looked at Techno. He looked at the guilt and regret swimming in Techno’s eyes, the way his shoulders hunched and he seemed to shrink in on himself.

Dream could scream. He could yell and rage and sob at how unfair it was. How he had lost everything and Techno had lost nothing. How Dream had lost not only his friends and his home, but his talents and his ability and his fucking wrist.

But, he had been angry for so long. He didn’t want to yell, or scold, or scream or cry.

Dream was tired.

Without warning, Dream leapt forward, arms wrapping around Techno as he clung to the hybrid, burying his face in his neck, gripping the back of his coat tightly.

Techno froze beneath his arms, before slowly returning the hug, his hands slowly making their way onto his back, rubbing gently, almost uncertainly, as Dream awkwardly half sat and half crouched on Techno’s lap.

Dream squeezed Techno, clinging to him as if he would disappear the moment he let go. _It’s okay,_ he thought, praying Techno would understand.

He felt Techno pull him closer, Dream now basically fully sitting on the man, and the hand on his back gave him three quick taps.

_(I love you._

_Dream wasn’t sure when it had begun, but once they started doing it, they couldn’t stop._

_Three quick taps, three nods, three claps, three whatever, it just had to be three, and the other would know._

__I love you, _it said, when they couldn’t get the words out._

_After the duel they had sat together, out of breath, faces red and sweaty, and Dream felt three light taps on his forearm._

_He turned to Techno, staring at the man’s profile as he kept staring at the sky, and with a shaking, blood coated hand, he tapped his shoulder three times._

_They sat there, silence hanging over them, never overbearing, never awkward, just a comfortable silence that said more than they ever could._

__I love you, _they had said, over and over again until they started to believe it._

_Raindrops started to fall as they lay in the grass, hands intertwined and eyes wide._

_Dream felt three raindrops hit his chest, one after the other, and he smiled, warmth filling his chest despite the chill in the air.)_

They sat there, clinging to each other. Dream heard Phil shift and felt a hand find its way into his hair, pulling at the strands gently.

Eventually, after Dream had calmed down and Techno began to shift, trying to get the feeling back into his legs, Dream stood up.

He took a breath, brushing off some non-existent dust from his skirt and looked at Phil and Techno, smile wide beneath the mask.

“Thank...you,” Dream said, coughing as he forced the words out.

“You good mate?” Phil asked, standing up and patting him on the back gently to help clear his throat.

Dream nodded, motioning towards the kitchen before walking in, pulling out one of the cups he had made himself, filling it with water from the cauldron he had.

Phil had followed him and rested against the doorway, Techno staying back in the living room while Dream got his drink.

“I can uh, try and help you with that if you want,” Phil said, vaguely motioning towards Dream with his hand.

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, before pointing hesitantly at his throat, giving Phil a questioning look.

“Yeah!” he said, clapping his hands, “the whole voice shit! I may not be able to do anything for your wrist, but I can certainly help with your voice!”

Dream nodded immediately, stepping next to Phil and grabbing his arm in excitement, eyes wide with joy and awe and everything he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Phil laughed, leading the two of them back out to the main room where Techno stood waiting for them, examining Dream’s bookshelves as he waited.

“Alright, alright!” Phil laughed, “we can work on it together! Techno could also teach you some sign language if you want, while we work on gettin’ your voice back up to speed.”

Techno looked over at his name, nodding at Dream, “If you want, that’d be cool I guess.”

Dream looked between the two, shock plain on his face, before nodding enthusiastically, hair flying from where it had fallen from his bun.

That got a laugh from Techno as well, and he walked over to the other two, hands on his hips.

“Well nerd,” he drawled, smirking at the glare Dream sent him, “no better time than the present. Whaddya say? You up for a quick lesson?”

Dream nodded again, pushing the hair out of his eyes where it kept falling, and Phil laughed again, ruffling Dream’s hair with his hand.

“If you’re up for it, maybe a haircut as well,” Phil said, smiling as Dream thought about it before hesitantly nodding, tucking the loose strands behind his ears.

“Alright then,” Techno said, walking towards the front door, “we’re doing this outside though, because I am not gonna stay in this tiny house any more, and also you gotta show me your farm Dream, because you have been holding out on me.”

Dream laughed as he followed the hybrid, Phil trailing after him as the trio made their way outside, sitting down beneath the tree next to the river, Dream immediately sitting down on the swing.

He brought his legs up onto the seat as everyone else got settled onto the ground, Phil pulling out a book as Techno sat down in front of Dream.

Patches had followed the three out, giving Phil and Techno a look, searching for any sign of a threat, before nodding and laying her head in Dream’s lap, going right back to sleep.

_(Dream laughed at the noise Techno had made when Patches laid down, ignoring Techno’s threats to not tell anyone about it.)_

Eventually, about an hour into Techno’s lesson, Phil stood up slowly, noticing the way Dream’s eyes followed him as he moved.

He pulled out a pair of shears, showing them off to Dream as he smiled. “So, what’re we thinkin for your hair?” he asked, moving to stand behind Dream once he had nodded, smiling back at Phil.

By the time the sun began to set, Dream knew how to say two phrases in sign language. They were _Hello, my name is Dream,_ and _I’m gonna fucking kill you,_ because it was Techno, his now shoulder length hair curling against his jaw as he laughed.

They had stopped by the farm before heading back inside, Techno judging each of Dream’s potatoes as they laughed. Phil couldn’t remember when he had seen Techno this relaxed or at ease.

It was nice. Two of the most violent members of the server, two people with violence ingrained into their very beings, finding peace in each other, in something so simple as farming.

Phil was so proud of his boys.

The three men made their way back to the house, Techno chasing Dream as he ran through the grass, choked laughter echoing back to Phil as he occasionally called out for them to be careful, laughing with Dream as Techno tripped over one of Dream’s crop baskets, stumbling as he tried not to face plant.

It was nice, getting away from it all.

Looking at Dream dodging Techno’s attempt to grab him, chest heaving with silent laughter instead of panicked breaths, Phil couldn’t help but think it was nice for Dream as well.

They shared a nice meal, conversation flowing easily between the three, even if Dream couldn’t say much. 

_(They had to eat in the living room, Dream’s dining table only built for one._

_He had never thought he would need more space for anyone other than himself._

_That would have to change before the next visit.)_

Phil and Techno smiled at him when they saw he had finished his plate, and Dream couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

Dream stood in the doorway as he watched Techno and Phil walk down the path leading back to the wood, waving at them as they left.

He couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night, hands constantly coming up to run through his freshly cut hair, fingers signing each word he had learned on repeat, only half-aware of what he was doing.

Dream went to bed that night, and he thought that maybe, this was what recovery felt like.

* * *

The next week, same day, same time, Dream opened the door yet again, and was met with the grinning faces of his siblings, hands holding each other as they waited on his doorstep.

Dream gave them a small smile from behind the mask, and stepped out of the way to let them in, following them to the couches as they sat down.

“Your hair looks really good!” Tubbo said, bouncing in his seat and watching Dream with an air of awe about him, eyes wide and smile wider.

Dream’s hand automatically shot up to play with the ends of the newly cut hair, twisting it around his fingers as he nodded his thanks, Eret watching the two with a soft smile on their face.

Dream motioned to the kitchen, a silent question on his lips.

“Just water, please,” Eret said, looking at Tubbo beside them, “you want anything Tubs?”

“Water, thank you!” he said, and Dream laughed, ruffling his hair as he walked by and into the kitchen.

He had done it so many times, a quick pat or ruffle of the hair as he passed, he could remember doing it so many times before.

But somehow, none of them felt as good as it did right now, to be able to touch his brother so easily and not get shoved away. To hear him laugh as Dream passed, no sign of the soldier the wars had turned him into, just Dream, his sibling, and their younger brother who could finally be a kid.

It was nice, sitting in this room, pretending the wars didn’t exist, acting like a normal family, like they hadn’t tried to kill each other multiple times.

_(He hadn’t tried, if he was being honest. Never with them, never truly striking with the intent to kill._

_He couldn’t bring himself to do it, no matter what happened between them, they were still his family, and he still loved them with everything he had._

_Dream pushed through the crowd, swinging his axe wherever he could, trying to cut a way through the bodies, to find some way to escape, to get out._

_He raised his axe, hands slick with blood and vision wavering behind the cracked mask, and he prepared to swing down onto whoever was stood in front of him now, when he faltered._

_There, in front of him, a sword held in shaking hands, looking so small, compared to everyone around him, was Tubbo._

_Dream swung wide, axe landing in the dirt beside Tubbo’s feet, his one visible eye meeting Tubbo’s, wide and filled with fear._

_“Go,” he whispered, watching Tubbo as he stood there, frozen in fear, or shock, or something Dream couldn’t hope to understand, “please Tubs, just go.”_

_Tubbo opened his mouth, whether to thank Dream, to forgive him, or wish him luck before stepping aside and letting him pass, Dream didn’t know. Maybe it was to yell, ask Dream how he could be so fucking stupid, to think Tubbo would just let him leave without a fight?_

_Before he could find out, an arrow pierced his shoulder, and Dream couldn’t help the cry of pain as it sunk into his flesh, blood pouring from the wound, the feeling of_ something _making its way into his bloodstream._

_Dream wasn’t sure if Tubbo had screamed, or he had, but it was all he could hear as he pushed past the boy, stumbling his way away from the threat, trying to run from his pain on shaking legs._

_Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he thinks Tubbo had called out then. He’d never ask, afraid of the answer, but sometimes, late at night while the stars are bright and the air is calm, he likes to think that his brother had wanted to help him in that moment._

_The thought that maybe he wasn’t hated by everyone, that maybe somebody wanted to help him, no matter what happened, had comforted him, pulling him close and keeping him warm when there was no one around to do it themselves.)_

Dream walked back into the main room, setting down the cups of water on the table before grabbing his journal and taking a seat on the couch across from the two, leaning back as he crossed his legs.

“Your dress looks nice,” Eret said, smoothing out their own skirt as they smiled at Dream, pushing their sunglasses up onto their head, “the colour is very pretty.”

Dream smiled, lifting up the skirt slightly as he looked at it, and wrote down a quick _yours too,_ in his notebook, earning a smile from Eret.

“Did you really build this whole place yourself?” Tubbo asked, eyeing everything he had in his house, eyes scanning over the bookshelves, taking in each item that rested on their shelves.

He nodded, quickly writing in the journal, shaking his wrist out once he finished.

_yeah, it took around two months to get everything done, but i’ve been adding stuff the whole time i was out here._

“Impressive,” Eret said, white eyes scanning the room, nodding in approval as Dream quickly wrote something else down.

_would you like a tour?_

Tubbo’s eyes lit up as he read the page, hands grabbing Dream’s arm in excitement.

“Can we? Everything looks so cool here, but I didn’t wanna bother you or anything, but can we please look around? It’s so big and you have so much stuff and-”

Eret ruffled Tubbo’s hair, cutting off his rant mid sentence as he tried to brush their hands away.

“Eret, c’mon!” he complained, trying in vain to fix his already messed up hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes, “don’t ruin the moment.”

While Tubbo was distracted with Eret, Dream stood up, messing with Tubbo’s hair as he walked by, high fiving Eret as they walked over to the door, Tubbo yelling behind them as he ran to catch up.

“That’s so not fair!” Tubbo yelled as he ran up next to his siblings, forcing his way in between both of them and shooting each of them a glare. He tried to keep up his angry act, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

Dream and Eret laughed with him, and Dream slung an arm over Tubbo’s shoulder, pulling him closer as they walked down the path leading to the farm.

As the day went on, Dream showed his family around his area, letting Tubbo pet the animals and walking them all through his farm, pointing to each type of crop he grew as Tubbo asked questions, Eret adding in their own opinion every now and then.

It was nice. It felt like how it was before everything. Before all the fighting, before relationships were broken and families were torn apart.

Seeing Tubbo smile like he did that day made everything Dream had gone through worth it, if only to live through that moment, watching his brother grin as the light shone down through the canopy.

The last stop was Dream’s storage shed, stopping by it on their way back so Tubbo could drop off the crops he had insisted on helping harvest, the sun beginning to set as they walked.

Dream didn’t have the heart to say no, so him and Eret watched as Tubbo carefully picked each vegetable, watching Dream intensely as he showed him how to replant each one.

Dream walked in first, Eret following close behind, and Tubbo joining them a few seconds later, slightly out of breath from carrying the basket.

Tubbo kicked the door shut behind him, his hands full with the basket, focused on whatever story he had been saying on the walk over, already looking around the storage room with awe.

Dream didn’t see any of that though.

All Dream could hear was the sound of the door slamming shut behind him, and any chance of escape being torn away.

_(The door slams shut, and he knows everyone is watching him, cheering at finally having contained the monster, locked him away once and for all._

_Dream has no escape, no clever quip or sneaky way out. It is just Dream, alone in the shed, with no one left to help him._

_There was no one to hear his cries as he screamed and begged, but that wasn’t right._

_Because everyone was outside, waiting to grab him and strike him and get rid of him once and for all, right?_

_They couldn’t leave, because if they weren’t there, it would mean Dream was alone. Abandoned and left behind, not even worth the time to kill him themselves._

_Dream was left to rot, like the wooden walls of the shed around him. He could smell blood in the musty air, and taste decay on his tongue._

_His hands were red with blood, but beneath it all, his skin began to rot. Turning black, wrinkling and warping before his very eyes, falling off in clumps, landing in wet piles around him as blood kept pouring._

_It travelled down his arms like rivers, staining everything red, red, always fucking red._

_He could hear pounding on the door, but he was sure no one was out there. Nothing made sense anymore._

_Had he been in this room for so long? Had his mind begun to decay alongside his body? Would Dream waste away in this corner, legs pulled close to his chest, waiting until there was nothing left of himself to save?_

_Dream looked around the room frantically, searching for any way out. He just needed to leave, to get out of this room, and then maybe everything would be okay._

_He had done it before, right? He had gotten out. This wasn’t fair, he had played this game before and he had won, he shouldn’t be back here, he shouldn’t be going through this again and again and again until he finally gave in and let himself rot._

_Dream couldn’t breathe, but what was air to a corpse, and he wasn’t sure if he was even alive, but all he knew was that he was choking, bile making its way up his throat, the smell of death coating his tongue as he gagged._

_He shut his eyes, waiting for the void to claim him, and for death to drag him six feet under, if he wasn’t there already._

_Dream wasn’t a believer, he thought the gods were all a bunch of bullshit._

_But if hell was real, Dream knew he’d seen it, alone in the corner of that old shed, watching everything around him turn to ash before his eyes.)_

Dream gasped, sucking in air he had been denied for so long, and nearly wept when it didn’t taste like blood or death or decay. He could smell the dirt from the farm and the smell of fresh produce behind him, and the smell of sweat drenching him as he shook, barely holding himself up on shaking hands and knees.

He gagged, bile rising and rising until finally Dream vomited. He didn’t want to open his eyes, he couldn’t be met with the sight of that shed, or his friends standing over him ready to attack.

But then, Dream felt someone rubbing his back gently, another person carefully weaving small braids into his hair, comforting him as he shook, coughing and sobbing, breath coming in small gasps.

Slowly, Dream opened his eyes. 

He was outside of the shed, hands and knees buried in the grass, Tubbo and Eret on either side of him, the oldest of the three rubbing Dream’s back as Tubbo continued to braid.

“Hey,” Eret said, leaning forward to meet Dream’s eyes, “you back?”

Dream felt Tubbo pause for a moment, hands falling still, before continuing what they had been doing, as if nothing had happened.

He swallowed, wincing at the taste of vomit left in his mouth, but he nodded at Eret, taking a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” Tubbo said, and it sounded like he had been crying, and fuck if that didn’t make Dream feel even worse, “I didn’t think you’d freak out like that, I really didn’t! Please don’t hate us, it was an accident I swear!”

Dream sat up and turned to look at Tubbo. The kid’s eyes were red and puffy, and there were dried tear tracks trailing down his face.

Dream pulled Tubbo in for a hug without any hesitation, returning the comfort that had been given to him not a moment ago, running a shaky hand through the boy’s hair as Eret rubbed Dream’s shoulder.

They sat there for a while, just breathing, listening to each other, healthy, and safe, and alive.

Then Dream nudged Tubbo, standing up once the boy got off of him, keeping both of his hands entwined with his siblings’.

Dream motioned for them to follow him, and they did so without hesitation, trailing behind Dream as he dragged them along, heading back towards the house.

Once they got there, instead of walking inside like they had expected, Dream led them to the back of the house, where a ladder rested against the roof, leading to the top of the house.

Dream pulled away from them and began climbing the ladder, looking back to make sure they were following.

Once the trio made their way onto the roof, Dream sat down, leaning back and resting his head on his hands, looking up at the sun that had finally set, the first signs of night peeking out into the sky.

Tubbo and Eret sat down silently on either side of Dream, shifting around so they could get comfortable, sides pressing into each others’.

“Geez, your roof is kinda uncomfortable Dre, not gonna lie,” Tubbo complained, rubbing his neck.

After a moment of consideration, Dream sat up and untied his mask, carefully folding the sash into a makeshift pillow and handing it to Tubbo.

The teen stared at Dream, eyes travelling over the now exposed part of his face, taking in all the new scars or marks, before taking the offered sash.

“Thank you Dream,” Tubbo said, and Dream smiled. Tubbo stopped trying to arrange the fabric and looked at Dream.

It had been so long since he had seen him smile, even since before the fight.

“Your smile is really nice,” he said as he continued to mess with the fabric, finally lying down once he got it in the right spot.

Dream’s face flushed red, and he quickly looked back at the sky, rolling his eyes at Eret’s laughter but grabbing their hand none the less.

They were quiet after that, watching the stars slowly begin to appear in the sky, blinking into existence as night grew closer.

Tubbo clung to Dream’s arm, resting his head against his chest, fingers drawing different patterns absentmindedly into his skin.

Eret just draped their arm across Dream’s chest, fingers playing lazily with Tubbo’s hair as it lay just within their reach, breath gently hitting Dream’s shoulder.

Dream could feel both of their heartbeats, steadily beating, their chests rising and falling slowly as they breathed in the night air.

He watched the stars shining above him, no longer mocking him, simply watching from above as a family healed.

The night was cool and sounds from the forest echoed around them, but none of them made any move to get up.

The moon slowly rose higher in the sky, until it was above the three of them, bathing them in a soft glow.

“I’m glad we found you, Dream,” Tubbo said, keeping his gaze fixed on the sky, voice slightly muffled by his arm, “I missed this. Being with you guys.”

“Yeah,” Eret spoke up, startling the other two slightly with their sudden interruption. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d learned I wouldn’t get to see you again.”

Silence fell over the three again, each of them too scared to speak up, unable to hide anything in the silence of the night, hearts on their sleeves and faces open for scrutiny.

“I know it isn’t just the running away,” Eret said, voice deep, sadness laced into their every word, “we saw the letters.”

Dream winced, thinking about everything he had written, everything he had said, believing that no one would ever read it. It had felt so safe at the time, he had been so sure it would never be seen by any eyes other than his own.

But now here he was, stuck beneath the moon, his walls crumbling around him as his family slowly saw more and more of him, usually hidden beneath all of his layers, finally exposed.

“I don’t-” Eret started, before stopping abruptly and taking a breath. “I don’t blame you, and I’m not mad. A part of me had known, before everything happened. I saw the way you would look, sitting on the edge. It wasn’t the look of a man who was there simply for the view.

“But, looking at you now, I’d like to think that maybe, you’re ready to move on. That we can help you, and help each other,” they said, turning slightly to face Dream, “if you want to, we’ll be here for you.”

Dream didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He kept watching the stars, the light reflected in his eyes. Tubbo was silent beside him, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You don’t have to accept,” Eret said when they realised Dream wasn’t gonna reply, “and I’d get it if you didn’t, it will take time to rebuild the trust between us. But, when the time comes, I want you to know that we’re here for you.

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

Dream felt the tears gather in his eyes, and there was no point holding them back. He sat up, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he silently cried.

Eret and Tubbo sat up with him, both wrapping him in their arms, protecting him from the world around them, keeping him safe as he felt himself break apart.

They were there as he shattered, that night on the roof. Sobs tore through his body, and they simply sat there with him, catching the pieces as they fell, slowly helping him piece himself back together.

Dream clung to them as if he were a drowning man lost at sea. 

As the moon hung high in the sky, the stars still shone brightly, Dream let himself fall apart, certain that he would be able to come back, his family beside him, stronger than he had ever been.

There, beneath the moonlight, Dream wept. Not for what he had lost, but for what he had gained.

* * *

Dream’s hands shook as he wiped them on his skirt, waiting next to the door for the group to arrive.

Patches was laying a couple feet away from him, watching him from where she sat. When she saw his chest heaving with the beginning of panic clawing at his chest, eyes blown wide, she stood up and made her way over to him.

His hand had started scratching at his forearm out of habit, nails digging into the rough skin. Dream just blinked when he felt something soft force its way beneath his hand, stopping the attack on his own arm.

He looked down and saw Patches sitting in front of him, her head beneath his hand as she leaned into his touch, pushing up into his palm.

He gave her a shaky smile and felt his heart slow, his hand rubbing against her head as he focused on calming his breathing down, closing his eyes as he focused.

 _It was okay,_ he thought, _he could do this._

A moment later, Dream could hear the sound voices growing closer as they made their way up the path, and he stood, waiting by the door for them to arrive.

There was a quick knock at the door, and Dream was there immediately, pulling it open quickly, wide eyes watching the people on the other side.

George, Bad, and Sapnap stood on his porch, Bad’s hand still held out where he had been knocking, quickly dropping to his side when he saw Dream.

No one said anything for a moment, watching each other from opposite sides of the door, waiting for the other person to make the first move.

Until finally, Bad spoke up.

“Dream!” he said, opening his arms as if for a hug, before thinking better of it and switching to offering his hand for a handshake.

Dream looked down at the hand in front of him, before looking at Bad, his eyes filled with hope as he watched Dream.

He took the demon’s hand, shaking it lightly, before pulling him towards his chest and wrapping the shorter man in a tight hug.

Bad let out a small _oof!_ as he toppled forwards, before laughing into Dream’s chest, wrapping his arms around him in return.

“Hey Dream!” he said, his voice filled with its usual cheer, “we missed you to!”

Dream looked over Bad’s shoulder to Sapnap and George, standing awkwardly off to the side, unsure of what to do in the moment. After watching them for a second, he showed pity, motioning for them to join the hug.

“C’mon,” Dream said, voice hoarse, but they could still hear the obvious smile in it, “it’s been too long.”

That was all the other two needed to hear before they had joined the hug, arms circling the other two as they buried their faces in whoevers neck was available, relishing in the familiar closeness of the four friends.

Dream shut his eyes and took in the sensation. It was so familiar. They had done this so many times over the years, just clinging to each other, basking in the warmth and the comfort.

He could hear soft laughter coming from the others as they embraced, and he couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto his face as he looked down at his friends.

They had a lot to talk about, and a lot to apologize for on both sides, but in this moment, they were allowed to be the four friends they had once been.

He breathed in, even the smell familiar to him. It was so undeniably, unmistakably _them._

Once they finally broke apart, backing up a couple steps and taking a few breaths, Dream stepped back into his house, giving them room to step inside.

The trio walked in, faces flushed and smiles wide as they took the house in. The first time they had visited, when everyone had crowded into the small room, searching for any sign of their friend, they hadn’t really had time to take in the actual home.

Looking at it now, it was comfortable. It was small, but not claustrophobic, more than enough space for one person (and a very large cat) to live in. Everything had a homemade feel to it, mainly because it was all homemade, but that was besides the point.

It was blatantly obvious Dream had put in hours of hard work to build this home, the dedication shining through in every piece of furniture or every small trinket lining the walls.

“Lookin good Dreamy,” Sapnap called, letting out a low whistle as he eyed Dream up and down, “if I wasn’t already madly in love with Karl and Quackity, I might even say you were hot.”

Dream rolled his eyes, used to Sapnap’s banter, and he shoved his friend lightly, pushing him towards the couches.

“Yeah sure… Snapmap,” he said, relishing the way his friend’s face fell into one of anger and offense at the comment, humor shining through beneath the facade.

“Dream,” he whined, dramatically throwing himself onto the couch as the other three men watched unimpressed, “I travel all this way just to see you, and the first thing you do is insult me. Such hospitality, I’m in awe!”

“Yeah sure, whatever Sappy,” George said, shoving his friend over as he sat next to him on the couch, rolling his eyes when Sapnap fell back onto him, leaning against the brunette’s shoulder.

“Oh George, not you too!” he cried, gasping dramatically as he pushed himself back into George, trying to shove him off the couch.

“Guys come on!” Bad yelled, his hands on his hips as he watched his friends fight, “you two are being terrible guests.”

Dream just laughed as he watched the three of them, a familiar wheeze ringing through the room as Dream clutched his stomach while he laughed.

Everyone turned to him, startled by the noise. It had been so long since they had heard that god damn wheeze. They’d all forgotten how much they’d _missed it._

Dream straightened up, the last laughs dying out, and he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you want food?”

It wasn’t much, but the past couple of weeks, in between visits, Dream had been practicing. It wasn’t much, and anything more than a couple words was painful, but he had made progress, and his throat didn’t burn nearly as much as it had those first couple of nights.

His words shocked the three out of whatever memory they had found themselves in, and they nodded.

“Hell yeah dude,” Sapnap said, finally getting off of George and sitting on his own side of the couch, “I’m always down for snacks.”

“Thanks Dream!” Bad said, smiling at his friend before taking a seat on the second couch, crossing his legs as he sat down.

“Thank you Dream,” George echoes, still busy glaring at Sapnap.

The younger man seemed unphased as he leaned forwards, resting his chin in his hands as he looked innocently at George. “Why don't you ever make me food, Gogy?” he asked, staring up at George through his lashes.

“In your dreams,” George said, the rest of the conversation muffled as Dream made his way into the kitchen.

He cut up a few apples and sliced some bread, placing the food on a plate and wiping the knife off with a hand towel. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to tide them over until he made dinner

Dream leaned against the counter as he winced, his thigh aching slightly as he stood there. One of his hands went down to rub where he knew the scar from the arrow rested, wincing as it twinged with pain.

He huffed, placing a bit of pressure on it to see how bad it was. It hurt when he took a few experimental steps, but it had been worse, he should be able to manage.

Dream grabbed the plate off the counter and made his way back to the main room, limping as he tried to keep as much weight off of the leg as he could.

He stepped into the room, the sound of an animated conversation between his three friends greeting him as he made his way over to the group, slower than usual in an attempt to stop his leg from aching too badly.

Bad turned around when he saw George and Sapnap staring at something behind them, conversation dying as Dream walked towards them.

“Oh my gosh, Dream,” Bad cried, rushing over to his side as he saw Dream limping, offering his arm to the taller man as he watched him with concern, “are you okay? Do you need help?”

Dream shook him off, waving back to the couch with the hand that wasn’t carrying the plate. “M’fine,” he said, continuing the walk towards the table, wincing slightly with each step.

“You sure dude?” Sapnap asked, watching Dream as he placed the plate on the table before collapsing back onto the couch, rubbing his leg as he leaned back, “because you don’t really look super fine.”

Dream rolled his eyes, leaning forward and snatching his journal from the table where he had set it in anticipation for the visit.

_it’s fine, this happens some days. nothing i can do about it, and it isn’t too bad today._

Bad frowned as he read it, George and Sapnap letting out distressed noises at the statement.

“There has to be _something_ we can do!” George said, looking at Dream with a strange expression, goggles pushed up onto his head leaving his eyes visible to everyone around him.

Dream just shrugged and grabbed an apple slice, pulling down his mask to take a bite.

“What happened?” Bad asks, sitting down next to Dream, looking at where his hand was still rubbing his thigh, like if he glared at it hard enough the pain would go away.

Dream looked at them all, meeting each of their eyes, before starting to write.

_(Dream had been running, branches tearing at him, roots trying to trip him as he stumbled his way through the woods, his vision still coming back from the potion of blindness just now leaving his system._

_He pushed past a couple of branches, blood covering him, mixing in with his sweat and tears, gasping for breath as he pushed himself to run faster, to go further, to get away._

_He could feel the ground beneath his feet as he ran, feet pounding into the earth as he pushed himself harder._

_Dream thought he had a chance. He couldn’t hear anyone directly behind him, the voices a distant yell, barely reaching his ears. He had actually made it, Dream had gotten_ out. __

_Then, he felt a piercing pain in his thigh, stumbling as the arrow pierced through his flesh, the head poking through the other side of his leg, sending him tumbling to the ground, palms slamming into the ground._

_Dream squeezed his eyes shut, holding back a scream as pure agony shot through his leg, heat radiating from where the arrow was stuck in him, blood already pouring from the wound, drenching his leg in it, staining the dirt beneath him red._

_Dream curled his fingers into the earth, muscles tensing in a vain attempt to stop the pain, but it was no use._

_He stayed there, curled up on the ground, tears leaking from his eyes as he swallowed bile, stomach turning as he bit back another pained cry._

_The sound of people running towards him grew louder and louder, and Dream knew he had to stand up if he wanted to live._

_He forced himself up, that alone sending him into another round of silent cries, banging his fist against the ground as each movement sent fire through his veins._

_He could feel the shaft of the arrow grazing against his bone, having torn straight through the muscle of his thigh. Even the slightest movement shifted the arrow painfully, the sensation sending shivers up Dream’s spine, bringing nothing but tears to his eyes._

_It hurt. It hurt so much, and Dream wanted nothing more than to just curl up on the ground until it stopped hurting, but that wasn’t an option anymore, and Dream had to go._

_He pushed himself up, gritting his teeth and slamming his eyes shut, heart beating faster with every moment he stayed put, the hunters only drawing closer as he waited, open and vulnerable, an easy kill._

_Pushing through the pain, Dream forced himself to his feet, nearly collapsing as soon as he put pressure on his injured leg._

_He managed to catch himself on the closest tree, and it was good enough for Dream. He stumbled his way through to forest, limping from tree to tree, throwing himself at the next tree, trying to get as far away as he could._

_He could hear the people of the server gaining on him, and panic flooded his senses as he sped up, the need to get away overriding the pain he felt, running faster and faster until he was full on sprinting, knee locking to keep him standing._

_Dream could see a small building in the distance, a beacon of hope in the darkness, somewhere he might be able to rest, to tend to some of his injuries, to regather his thoughts and come up with some sort of fucking plan._

_He made his way over to the building, shutting his eyes and praying no one was close enough to follow him in before he could block the door._

_The door slammed shut behind him, and Dream blocked the door, effectively keeping the rest of the server out._

_He hadn’t realised he would also be trapping himself inside, along the way.)_

He held the book up, showing it to his three friends, all watching him carefully.

_it was an arrow. it hit me while i was trying to run. went clean through. wanna see the scar?_

Bad looked up from the journal, meeting Dream’s eyes, frowning as he looked at him. “I’m sorry Dream, is there anything we can do to at least make it hurt less?”

“Yeah man,” Sapnap said, eyes wide in shock, gaze forward into nothing as he processed what he had read, “I know it wasn’t me personally who hit you with that, but god, we took that way too far.”

George nodded, meeting Dream’s eyes evenly as he spoke, voice wavering slightly at the end. “I’m sorry Dream, I can’t imagine how much it must have hurt.”

“If you’re offering to show us your super cool and badass scar though, I wouldn’t say no,” Sapnap said, laughing awkwardly in an attempt to lighten the mood.

The other two didn’t say anything, but they nodded, eyes still watching Dream’s face, searching for something, but whatever it was Dream didn’t know.

Dream pulled his skirt up, pushing it back up his leg until about halfway up his thigh, revealing the pale white scar resting slightly to the left, marring the freckles on his skin.

He heard the other three gasp as he showed off the scar, all of their eyes focused on it as he stuck his leg out slightly to give them a better view.

“Worse, on the back,” he said, coughing slightly after speaking, his throat getting worse with each word.

Bad looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears, voice wavering as he spoke. “Dream…” he said, trailing off.

What else was there to say?

Dream flushed, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention, and he shoved his skirt back down, hiding the scar beneath the fabric again. Out of sight, out of mind.

“It’s fine,” he said, his throat burning but he kept pushing, remnants of the memory still clinging to him as he forced himself to continue, “in the past.”

The three just looked at him, guilt evident on their faces, the air thick with tension as silence rang out, no one daring to speak.

Suddenly, once the silence had grown to almost unbearable lengths, Sapnap spoke up, words rushing out of him quickly as his hands moved wildly around him.

“Okay, so I know you were all like ‘oh hey guys, let’s hug, it’s all good now!’ when we got here today, but I still feel really bad about yelling at you last time we were here, and I just wanna say I’m really sorry dude, I didn’t mean to make you panic or anything, I was just mad _you_ weren’t mad and shit, and I’m just really sorry,” he said, gasping for breath after he got the last word out, every turning to stare at him.

Dream’s eyes were wide as he looked at his best friend. Sapnap was staring at the floor, leg bouncing and hands twisting the ends of his bandana around, nervousness radiating off of him in waves.

Everyone held their breath as they waited for Dream to speak, or write in his journal, or do _something._

Did Dream forgive Sapnap?

It had been terrifying in the moment. It had sent him spiraling back, knocking away all the progress he had made over the months, or progress he thought he had made over the month, out from beneath his feet.

He was left floundering, things he had been told contradicting the things he was hearing, and it had been so much all at once.

It had scared Dream, sent him into a panic, left him gasping for air as he tried to break free of the memories still chaining him down, their hold on his mind just as tough as the day he got them.

But Dream understood. He knew what it felt like to be powerless, to watch things fall apart in front of you, with no way to fix them. He knew what it felt like to lash out at whoever was closest, saying things you never meant and meaning things you could never say.

Looking at Sapnap now, every trace of the man who had shouted that night was gone, and now only the man he called his best friend remained, wearing guilt like a crown of thorns forced upon his head.

Dream could be mad like Sapnap had wanted.

But he could also forgive.

He was so tired, he didn’t think he had the energy to be mad anymore.

He was hurt, and he was still scared, and he was nervous and afraid and cautious and so many things, but Dream didn’t think he was angry.

At least not in the way everyone thought he should be.

Dream held open his arms, and Sapnap latched onto him, legs planting on either side of him as he buried his face in Dream’s neck, shaking slightly as Dream held him, resting his chin on the top of his head.

They sat there, the silence less oppressive, more comfortable, as if they knew they didn’t need to speak to say anything.

Their silence said that they understood, that they forgave him as he forgave them, that they could move on, and start again.

Dream pressed his face into Sapnap’s hair, covering the tears that had gathered in his eyes as he watched his three best friends in the living room of his house.

Eventually Sapnap sat up, wiping his eyes and giving Dream a soft smile, eyes still red and puffy but filled with a new hope, shining brightly beneath the leftover tears.

“Thanks man,” he said, voice hoarse, and Dream just smiled in return, giving his arms one last squeeze before letting him go back to his previous spot on the other couch.

The mood was lighter after that. Conversation came easily, and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend for a moment that he was years in the past, back before the fighting began.

He could pretend that he was sitting with his friends in their home, whatever Bad’s latest creation was cooking in the oven, George and Sapnap finding _something_ to fight over, the chaos washing over him, a comforting feeling.

When Dream opened his eyes, and saw his friends laughing as they took turns looking at some of his older attempts at carving plates from wood -all utter disasters, but still hold some nostalgia for Dream, his first attempts at starting something new- and joking like they used to, Dream smiled.

Maybe it wasn’t exactly like how they used to be, something in their dynamic permanently shifted after the fight, but it was good enough.

_(Dream noticed how Sapnap yelled less, his usual piercing shrieks that used to echo through their house now absent after careful eyes caught him flinching at a loud noise._

_George never snuck up on Dream. No hands grabbing his shoulders from behind to get his attention, no sudden movements towards him, hands in view at all times, making sure Dream could see their every move._

_Bad never treated Dream like something broken, or something wrong. He spoke to Dream like normal, and he was just so much like himself, it was such a Bad thing to do, Dream couldn’t help but relax as they fell back into the easy rhythm, conversation flowing easily between the two._

_Nothing had changed, but at the same time, so much had._

_Dream decided, sitting with his friends, that not all of it was for the worst.)_

They spent most of the day inside, staying seated around the table to keep Dream from pushing himself too far, the three boys doing their best to keep Dream seated the entire visit so he wouldn’t hurt his leg.

 _i’m fine_ he wrote, rolling his eyes as Sapnap scoffed from behind him, _i’ve survived eight months on my own with this, i think i can handle a little walking around._

“Ugh, come on Dream,” Sapnap whined, jumping over the back of the couch to land next to Dream, draping an arm over his shoulder, pulling the blonde closer, “there’s not even anything to do! The party is in here man, no point getting up now!”

At that moment, Sapnap’s stomach let out a loud rumble, causing the younger man to flush red in embarrassment as everyone else laughed, Bad failing at hiding his own giggles behind his hand.

“What was that Sappy Nappy?” George asked, amusement shining in his eyes as he watched his friend sulk on the couch, “your stomach seems to disagree with the idea of not getting up.”

“Shut up Gogy,” Sapnap spat, glaring playfully at him, “not my fault I can’t live off of apple slices and bread.”

Dream rolled his eyes at Sapnap’s theatrics, pushing himself to his feet despite everyone’s protest.

He pushed them all away when they went to help him, glaring at them all lightly as he started walking towards the kitchen, still limping, but his leg less sore than it had been earlier that day. Dream would count it as a win.

“Dinner,” was all he said as he made his way into the kitchen, ignoring his friends protests as he kept walking, only turning back to ask, “wanna help?”

The other three paused for a moment, staring at Dream, before jumping back into action, all of them rushing to get to the kitchen before the others, shouts of agreement from all of them ringing out in the room.

Dream smiled and walked into the kitchen, starting to pull out the ingredients for some stew as he heard his friends bickering behind him, Sapnap and George somehow _already_ finding something to fight over.

Bad walked up next to Dream, helping him pull out different ingredients as Sapnap and George screamed in the background, the two blissfully ignoring their louder friends, choosing to focus on starting dinner.

Dream smiled at Bad, and Bad smiled right back, a wide grin spreading across his face before it changed to a look of concentration as Bad began to peel some carrots.

Dream leaned against the counter, just taking everything in for a moment, a smile growing on his face as he watched Sapnap and George argue over who got to use a cutting board.

He hadn’t realised how lonely his house had felt until now, and watching his friends joking and chatting as they worked, constant chatter filling the usually permanent silence was a comfort.

He watched the people he had been so sure he had lost, breathing and loving and living in his kitchen, and he grinned.

Dream could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOES THIS COUNT AS FLUFF? I THINK SO AFFJBHGFBHJFGBHGG ANYWAYS COME GET YALLS JUICE :)
> 
> This chapter took a lot longer to write mainly bc I had no idea what I was doing, but I think it came out all right! I wanted to have one more group visit him, but I simply did not have time, so maybe in the future I'll write that out.
> 
> Also! I was saying in earlier chapters that I thought i might be ending this soon, but then at like 3am I was like "what if I add more plot" so there should be at least a couple more chapters, but also I'm very indecisive so don't take anything I say too seriously.
> 
> Thank you all for reading tho!!! I hope this chapter was worth the wait :) and thank you sm Silver for editing, ik it was a lot of shit 2 read so thank you sm <33
> 
> If you enjoyed pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc they make me heart eyes
> 
> and if ur interested u can find me on insta @caydiink as well!!!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and for all the comments you've left on the last couple of chapters. Ik i haven't responded to any of them, but I read them all and they genuinely made me so happy! I'll try to respond to some this chapter, but no promises bc school do be kicking my ass
> 
> thank you all tho!! <33


	14. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's life is getting better, until it's not :)

It had been a couple months, and Dream couldn’t believe how well things were going.

Every week, a new group would make their way out for a visit, coming in small groups of 2 - 4, never enough to overwhelm him, but he could slowly start rebuilding the relationships that had been lost.

George, Sapnap and Bad always visited together. It felt wrong, if one of them wasn’t there.

_(The other three would panic slightly, if one of them wasn’t there. They’d think that, despite all their effort, they’d lost yet another friend._

_They would cling to each other, a confirmation that they were all still together, they were all still alive and there and friends and_ alive. __

_It helped Dream learn that none of this was for show. It wasn’t some big ploy to try to gain his trust, only to stab him in the back when his guard was down._

_All of his friends were just as scared as he was. Everyone was nervous and unsure and still figuring it all out, but at least they could stumble through it all together._

_Dream didn’t have to go through all of this alone.)_

Tommy had knocked Dream over with the force of his hug when he finally got to visit, Ghostbur and Niki still a few feet away from the house.

Dream laughed from his place on the ground, Tommy pushing himself up, quickly apologizing as Niki scolded him, yelling at the teen to be more careful.

“Ayyy, Big D!” Tommy shouted, offering his hand to pull Dream back to his feet, eyes shifting quickly around the area, trying to take in everything at once.

Dream cleared his throat, swallowing once before speaking up. “Hey there, Tomathy,” Dream said, smiling both at the lack of pain, his voice still rough and weak, although it had gotten leagues better than it had been, and Tommy’s look of mock-offense.

Phil and Techno visited every week, unknown to everyone else.

Dream could say a few sentences now without his throat giving up on him. And thanks to Techno, he could speak with his hands just as well as he could with his voice.

They kept the lessons a secret. There wasn’t any particular reason, Dream knew that his friends would be nothing less than supportive.

But it felt nice, having something that was his, that he didn’t have to share with everyone else.

He had found that same comfort in his home, all those months ago where everyone else on the SMP was unaware of the life he had built, and everything he made was only for himself.

But now, everyone had seen every inch of his home, explored the woods around his land, searched through his farms and sheds and rooms, taking in everything he had made.

It didn’t bother Dream. he was happy they all supported him, and they approved of everything he had made.

_(He still got nervous. Thinking that, one day, he would do something wrong, and all that praise he had accepted greedily would be torn away._

_He hated himself, for craving their validation. Despite what he told himself, Dream knew deep down that he still needed it, he craved their approval, the reassurance that he had done something_ good, _that he wouldn’t have to be punished._

_It terrified him. The fear that, one day, they would change their minds. Everything they had felt worthy of praise now worthless, only fueling the flames of their rage._

_Sometimes, Dream felt so unbearably lonely, sitting in his house all alone, craving the warmth he had gone months without, his own mind preventing him from accepting it._

_No matter how much he wanted to be held, to be touched kindly, without hesitation or disgust or anger, with no strings attached, Dream found himself pulling away._

_His mind knew that they were all here to help him, to fix what had been broken, but with each hand that reached out, all he could see were the blades they once held, aimed not just to kill, but to make it hurt._

_Dream saw the pain in everyones’ eyes each time he flinched back._

_He couldn’t find it in himself to apologize.)_

Dream liked having the lessons all to himself though. After everything he owned had been searched through and put on display for everyone to see, it was nice, having something no one else knew of.

No one but him, Techno, and Phil that is.

But they wouldn’t say anything. Dream trusted them not to.

His speech was much better now though, and every word he spoke that didn’t bring tears to his eyes, or make him wince as it grated against his throat, brought a smile to Dream’s face.

He was getting better, step by step.

It was a long road, but it didn’t feel nearly as daunting as it once had. Not now, with his friends beside him, staying with him every step of the way.

Dream couldn’t keep all of the memories at bay though, and eventually, his friends visited him on a bad day.

Patches, despite her best efforts, couldn’t keep him in bed, and was trying to herd him away from the door when a knock rang throughout the cabin.

He had opened the door to Niki, Fundy and Eret, and was already forcing back tears.

His hands shook, wrist flaring in pain at the movement, leg trembling beneath his wait, eyes distant and vacant, his mind constantly trying to pull him back down into the memories he tried so hard to move on from.

Niki had taken one look at Dream, holding up a hand to stop Fundy from speaking when he opened his mouth, and took a careful step forward.

“Dream,” she said softly, doing her best not to startle the man, “do you know where you are?”

Eret watched silently from behind her, blank eyes watching their brother carefully, hands twisting nervously into the fabric of their dress.

Fundy had finally realized just how serious the situation was, the noises of protest he had been spewing previously now silent as he watched Niki approach Dream.

“I-” Dream said, eyes moving around frantically, but never truly seeing, trying desperately to latch onto something, “I don’t know, I’m-”

Dream began to hyperventilate, chest rising quickly as he gripped the door frame, stumbling back as he pulled his hand back towards his chest, wincing in pain as he clutched his wrist closer.

“Dream,” Niki said, following the man into the house with slow, audible steps, motioning for the other two to stay outside, “you’re okay. You’re in your home, yeah? You were going to show us that new shirt you made last week, remember?”

His eyes were wide as they searched Niki’s face, searching for something within her, trying desperately to figure out where he was, the world blurring around him as his mind raced.

_He was home. He was safe. No one could hurt him here._

Dream blinked after a few more minutes of Niki speaking softly, trying to bring him back to reality, keeping up a steady stream of conversation, talking about whatever came to mind and attempting to ignore the panther nosing worriedly at Dream’s arm.

He looked around, eyes finally taking in the world around him, his mind catching up with the situation at hand.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck, I’m just-” Dream said, but was cut off by Niki pulling him towards her, wrapping her arms around his still shaking form.

Dream’s eyes widened in shock, before his hands came up around her, shoulders hunching as he curled around her, burying his face into the top of her head.

“You’re here Dream,” she said, giving him a final squeeze before stepping back, motioning for Eret and Fundy to make their way inside.

Fundy walked in first, Eret only a step behind him, and he offered Dream a shaky smile, eyes still wide after what he’d just witnessed.

“Hey Dream,” Fundy said, giving him a small wave, “long time no see, huh?”

Dream gave a wet laugh, nodding as he wiped a few stray tears from his face. “Yeah Fundy,” he said, “a whole two weeks.”

“Two weeks too long without my favourite farmer,” Fundy said, heading over to the sitting area, taking a seat in one of the recently added arm chairs.

People had started bringing gifts over on their visits, whether it be a small picture, or a new book to add to his steadily growing collection, or even a new table (of course Techno had to one up everyone, the bitch) they always made sure to bring him something each week.

Once Dream picked up on the habit, he started returning the favour. Almost everyone had a small, hand carved wooden statue Dream had made for them. Most of them were just animals he had seen in the woods around his house, but some of them were carvings of different objects around his house.

Dream would also give people stuff from his farm. Techno had gotten a bundle of potatoes (which the hybrid did not cry at, not a single tear in sight), and he had given Niki a bouquet of the wildflowers that grew near his house.

Everyone had received some form of baked good at some point in the past couple of months, and they were all quick to accept whenever the desserts were offered.

It wasn’t as good as Niki’s, nothing was quite as good as her food, but the gesture alone brought everyone such joy.

It was Dream’s way of reaching out, trying to rebuild the trust they had all lost along the way.

Nothing would be fixed overnight, but it was a start. It was all they could hope for at this point.

Dream found himself looking forward to the visits each week, waiting by the door and shaking, not with anxiety but with _excitement,_ as he watched for the familiar forms of his friends through the window.

The visits slowly got longer as time went by. At first, they stayed with Dream for a couple of hours, seeing the growing anxiety and agitation in the admin by the end of the day, and leaving before night fell.

But then, on one of Tubbo and Eret’s visits, he quietly asked them if they wanted to stay the night.

The two siblings had stared at Dream and shock, the man’s mouth quickly opening to take it back and apologize for overstepping, before Tubbo pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face into Dream’s chest.

“Really?” he asked, looking up at Dream with wide eyes, “we can stay? With you? For the _whole_ night?”

Dream laughed half in shock, the fear that had gripped his lungs now gone completely, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at Eret, a warm smile on their face as they watched their brothers.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us now,” Eret joked, making their way over to the pair before wrapping their own arms around them, pulling them both close to his chest as they stood there.

Dream just smiled, nodding against Eret’s shoulder where his head rested, ruffling Tubbo’s hair slightly.

“Wouldn’t want anything else,” Dream said, voice slightly shaky, but still filled with joy no one had truly heard until now.

After that, everyone began staying for the night, instead of just a day visit. Dream had eventually caved after one too many complaints of having to sleep on his floor, and he ended up building a guest room.

Techno and Phil had helped him with it when they visited during the week, Phil’s wings proving to be a great help when adding the roof, and Techno insisting on doing whatever Dream had been working on for him when his hands started to shake, insisting that _It was just sad watching a loser like you try to hold that plank up._

Dream just smiled as he watched Techno work, taking a quick break from the tiring work, watching the room slowly come to life before his eyes.

It was a good addition, once they finally got it finished, a couple of beds put together in the room for whoever would be staying overnight next.

It made his house feel more like a _home,_ now that there was a room specifically for his friends.

It all felt so much more permanent, like this friendship he had slowly started to rebuild wouldn’t be taken away at any moment, they wouldn’t just leave him.

Everything had been going so well. He was rebuilding the relationships he had once believed ruined forever. He made jokes with the people he thought he would never see again.

He felt like, finally, he had his family back.

_(He stopped thinking about why he should keep living. No longer searching for reasons to keep going, to force himself to live at least one more day._

_He had all the reasons he needed now, all sat beside him in his home as they spoke like they once had years ago, the familiarity tugging at his heart._

_Dream didn’t need to find a reason not to die, simply living was enough for him.)_

Of course, nothing good lasts forever.

When it all fell apart, it fell _hard._

Dream had been preparing for the winter, using the wool he had recently sheared to make new, thicker blankets, lining all of his clothes with wool to help fight against the chill that had become a constant in his life and would only get worse.

He found himself shivering beneath the blankets each night, his thin walls never enough to keep the harsh wind out, the fire he had lit long since died out, leaving him alone in the cold, dark night.

_(It was better than the feeling of hot, warm, sticky blood dripping down his skin, staining his hands red as he tried to wipe it off._

_It seared his skin as he tried to wash it away, sticking to him like glue, a constant reminder of all of his failures._

_Dream would take the biting chill of loneliness over the burning hot ache of regret any day.)_

He knew something was coming. He could feel it building in the air, a pressure making its way into his home, rising constantly, leading to _something._

Dream knew a storm was brewing, he could feel the static rising as he worked each day, eyes constantly shifting to his windows, waiting for the inevitable.

He knew it was coming.

But he never could have seen how devastating it truly was.

Dream flinched as the first raindrops hit the window, the sound startling him from the shirt he had been patching up.

He looked out the window, watching the rain begin to fall, and he pushed down the growing anxiety, taking a calming breath.

_(He had never liked storms. Hated them, if he was honest._

_They were too loud. Too chaotic. There were too many factors Dream couldn’t even hope to control. They were unpredictable, and that alone terrified Dream._

_Storms could take and destroy and ruin what they wished, and no one had the power to stop it._

_Humans were one thing. Anyone could kill a man if they truly wanted to._

_But no one could stop a storm.)_

Dream tried to focus on the shirt that rested in his lap, but the light drizzle had slowly turned into a steady rain, before turning into a downpour.

The rain hit his window with loud, echoing booms, audible from anywhere in the house.

_(Had his home always been this small? This confining?_

_Had it always felt like a coffin, restricting him on all sides, slowly caving in on him until it would swallow him whole, leaving nothing behind but the memory he had become?)_

Dream could feel water dripping through his roof, small puddles forming on his floor from where the rain managed to make its way through his roof, trying desperately to reach him.

He could feel the whole house shifting in the wind, swaying dangerously from side to side, walls creaking as mother nature threw everything she had at it, trying to break it down.

Trying to break him.

He winced as there was a loud bang against the window, the rain spitting down harshly, glass shaking with each hit as it threatened to give at any moment. Patches shivered, huddling closer to her human, both for warmth and his comfort.

_(The creaking of his house sounded so much like the floorboards of the storage room, shifting beneath his weight as he huddled in the corner._

_He couldn’t tell if it was rain banging on the windows or his friends, their glowing, angry eyes watching him from the darkness, witnessing him break, none of them moving to help him._

_Patches’ heat on his side, doused in rainwater as she was, felt far too similar to blood seeping out of his wounds._

_Dream was surrounded, he was trapped and vulnerable and so alone again. Everyone was gone, and it was just Dream against the world that was so hellbent on seeing him dead, no matter what he did, no matter how far he had come, it would never last._

_The world was so loud, and Dream was so small within it all._

_One boy, left in the hands of the gods who had seen fit to create him, a being of their own making never good enough for what he was supposed to become._

_Never good enough, but not quite bad enough either.)_

Dream shut his eyes, praying that, if he closed them for long enough, everything would be okay when he opened them.

He hugged himself as he shook, eyes squeezed shut in denial.

Why didn’t he invite someone over tonight? They would’ve visited if he asked, and then, maybe, he wouldn’t have to sit through this alone. Maybe he wouldn’t have to claw at his own arms to find any semblance of comfort.

Maybe he wouldn’t feel so small, so alone, if he had someone here to tell him he was more, he was worth more than this storm made him feel.

Maybe, in another life, Dream let himself be vulnerable, and he asked for help. He reached out, and his friends answered.

But this was reality, and Dream was more alone than he’d ever been, Patches walked off and started to pace nervously by the door, only her and the storm to keep him company.

Dream missed his friends. He wanted them here. He wanted them here and he wanted this storm to go away and he wanted everything to be okay again and he didn’t want any of this to be happening.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Dream’s eyes shot open as there was a large, echoing crack from above him.

He turned just in time to watch part of his roof cave in, chunks of wood and leaves and brick that he had forged himself collapsing into a pile on his floor.

_(The chair that Sapnap had brought him was buried beneath it all, splintered wood and debris and rain hiding it from view.)_

Dream let out a sob as he felt the rain making its way into his home, a window somewhere beside him shattering into shards of glass, embedding themselves into his arm as he tried to cover his face.

The rain hit him from all sides, droplets hitting him hard enough he swore it would bruise, ice cold ward seeping into his clothes, drenching him in a matter of seconds.

Dream fell to the floor, slick with water and blood, pushing himself back into a corner of his home, curling in on himself as best as he could, his arm distantly throbbing in pain as he felt the blood trailing down his arm.

The only sliver of warmth in the freezing void his world had become in mere moments.

The wind pushes against the walls of his home, wood splintering and glass shattering as the storm attacked, never relenting, never offering a moment of rest.

All Dream could do was sit there in the corner, and pray he would make it through.

_(He thought about his farm. The crops he had spent hours planting, cultivating and growing and now they were gone, destroyed by the world that seemed determined to take everything from him._

_He thought about the life he had built for himself. The months of hard work he had spent making something new, rebuilding himself, only to be torn down in one night by something he could never hope to control._

_He thought about how he wasn’t even angry, just resigned. He knew nothing could last. Nothing this good would stay for long, especially not for someone like him._

_Deep down Dream thought he deserved this._

_It was the world's way of saying, no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to change, he could never be forgiven._

_He didn’t deserve the luxury.)_

Dream clung to himself, head buried in his knees as he curled up as tightly as he could, listening to the destruction raging around him.

There was a loud crash, startling Dream enough to look up, eyes wide with panic as he tried to see what had happened.

He saw a large chunk of roof that had torn through the wall to the kitchen, leaving nothing behind but a pile of rubble, all of his efforts torn down in seconds, his new life left in ruins.

Dream met Patches’ eyes, softly glowing in the night, her fur soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight.

She made a low whining noise, almost a cry, as she watched him. Dream thought about getting up, about making his way to her and using any strength he had left to try and protect her, to preserve one thing from the life he had just lost.

But then, after giving him one last look, Patches turned and ran through the door that had been blown open by the wind, quickly fading into the shadows that lay just beyond his house, the void slowly swallowing her whole.

Dream let out a choked sob. He knew, he _knew_ it was better that she left, that she tried to get to safety even when Dream had no hope of such a luxury.

But still.

A small part of him, the part that had never quite grown up and still clung to childish whims and dreams of a better, kinder world, had hoped that she would stay.

He thought that maybe, she would find something within him worth dying for, and she wouldn’t leave him to face the unknown alone.

But he didn’t blame her. She didn’t deserve to die for him. He wasn’t worth saving.

Dream sat there in the ruins of his home, everything he had worked so hard to build torn apart in seconds, the ruins of the life he had dreamt of scattered around him in some cruel mockery of a graveyard.

The rain kept falling, and Dream wasn’t sure if it was blood, rain or tears on his face, or some sad mixture of the three.

His wrist cried in agony as he clenched his fist, fingers pulling at his hair as he dug his fingers into the slick blonde locks.

His thigh throbbed beneath him, but he couldn’t feel it beneath the chill that had set in his bones and the exhaustion that had taken over.

Dream sat alone as the storm raged around him, storm clouds blocking the stars from view as he searched for any form of light in the neverending darkness.

His body slowly went numb as the cold took over, all feeling being sucked from every inch of his being.

The last thing Dream felt as he clung to any semblance of hope, rocking slightly in a vain attempt to calm himself amidst the chaos, was a blinding, searing hot pain in his back as something slammed into him.

He heard the deafening crash of the storm around him, felt the rain landing on his exposed, frozen skin, and then he heard nothing.

Dream slowly faded from the world in a final act of defiance.

He would not sit there and suffer in the hands of something greater than him.

Dream, for at least a moment, would find peace in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed your fluff while it lasted bc it's gonna be a few more chapters til u get any more :))
> 
> IM SORRY AFDFJHBFGBHFGGH RIP 2 HIS COTTAGECORE LIFE BUT IM DIFFERENT
> 
> This was actually painful to write, and I usually wouldn't post rn but I am tired and just wanna get it OUT afdfhjdfbhjdfbhfgf
> 
> i'm sorry in advance, pls dont murder me
> 
> thank you all for the comments on the last chapter tho!!! they were so nice im <333 if you want to feel free to leave a kudos/comment on this one!!
> 
> i'm also on instagram @ caydiink so if ur interested check me out ;)
> 
> thank you for reading!! until next chapter :)


	15. aw fuck, i can't believe you've done this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe this has turned into a Phil Techno and Dream family fic :/// /j
> 
> @ all of the comments yelling at me for last chapter im SORRY im just BUILT DIFFERENT
> 
> but thank you all 2 everyone who commented on the last chap, im sorry i didn't reply to any but i read them all and they were so nice!!!
> 
> also pls let me know for this fic or any others of mine you may read if i need to add any tags/trigger warnings! i'm never sure what i need to add a warning for, so if theres anything u think i need to pls lmk! <333

Techno thought that, all things considered, things had been going pretty well.

He wasn’t one to assume, because that never ended well for anyone, but he thought that it was fairly obvious in this instance.

Slowly but surely, Dream was warming up to them one by one. He opened up more and more with each visit, speaking more and more each time.

He seemed fuller with every visit. Healthier. More of the old Dream visible within the man he had become each time they saw him.

Not the Dream who had waged wars and cut ties and ignored everyone for the power he greedily clung to, but the older, softer Dream had been once upon a time.

They could see the Dream who had chased his friends through the trees, laughing as they ran, no one around to tell them no.

The Dream who had sat with Niki as she baked, trying to help when he could, despite never having baked a day in his life.

The Dream who helped Fundy with whatever project he was working on at the moment, sitting with the hybrid for hours just so he wouldn’t be alone, offering his own ideas every now and then whenever Fundy seemed to get stuck.

The Dream who laughed with Tommy and Tubbo, letting them be kids and make mistakes, always there to patch up their scrapes, pulling them close when the world got just a bit too loud.

The Dream who visited Eret every day in their large, empty castle, a calming presence to fend off the loneliness that threatened to overtake them each night as the silence rang around them, always there to fill the void that the power had left.

The Dream who sparred with Techno, no matter how tired they were, the familiar dance between them was comforting, more than any words they could say.

The Dream who had fought for his friends, not against them. Who would throw himself in front of any blow that came their way, all because he couldn’t even fathom a world without them in it.

It had been lonely without him, but slowly, Techno could see him coming back.

He saw it in the way Dream relaxed around them, the tension that had been a constant for the first few weeks, always ready to make a run for it if he had to, slowly drained from his form, leaving a man behind.

Dream looked tired.

Not always in a bad way though. There were days where they could see the exhaustion that had settled deep within his bones, his cheeks hollow and bags dark beneath his eyes, and they could see everything he had carried with him for the year he had been alone.

But some days, it was the simple exhaustion of a man who had _lived._ The ache of a long day, not filled with pain or fear, but the simple pleasure of a simple life.

Techno would forever be grateful towards Phil. He doesn’t think they would be anywhere close to where they were now if not for the man.

He had taken to Dream so easily, Techno had no clue how he did it so seamlessly.

_Dadza pog dadza pog_ the voices chanted in his head.

Phil just entered Dream’s life with a whirlwind of peace, his presence calming but oh so large and loud, and Dream clung to it.

Slowly, Phil, along with the efforts of everyone else, pulled Dream from the shell he had built for himself.

The thought of losing Dream, of not finding him soon enough, or finding him too soon, terrified Techno.

All of the what ifs and what could have been played through his mind at night. The thought of Dream’s corpse, alone in life and death, shook Techno to his core.

He would wake up in a cold sweat some nights, thinking of how close they were to losing him for good, the vision of Dream’s bloodied corpse fading from his nightmares only to resurface the next time his mind wandered.

But then he would look to his left, the small wooden pig Dream had carved for him placed gently onto his nightstand, always in view, and he couldn’t help but smile, breaths slowing.

They hadn’t lost him. Dream had made it through.

They all had.

He thought, after everything they had been through, after all they had suffered and struggled through, they would be allowed a break. A small rest amidst the storm their lives had become.

Techno thought they would be allowed to be happy, even if it was only temporary.

Those thoughts came crashing to a halt in the dead of night as fall was just beginning to turn to winter.

He was standing in the kitchen of the house he shared with Phil, cutting up some carrots and potatoes Dream had given them after their last visit, humming along with Phil as they both worked silently, easily moving around one another, so used to each others’ presence.

Then, there was a frantic scratching at their front door, something scraping down the wood, trying to force its way in.

Techno put down the knife he was holding, turning around to look at Phil who seemed just as confused as he was.

“Were you uh, expecting company?” Techno asked, looking to the front door before training his eyes on Phil again.

“Can’t say I was,” Phil said slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he placed the lid back on the pot of soup he had been stirring, making his way to the front door.

He stopped in front of it, hand resting on the doorknob as he listened to the noise coming from outside.

The scratching didn’t let up. If anything, it got worse. More frantic as claws scrabbled at the wood, as if whatever was outside was trying to tunnel through the door.

“Careful Phil,” Techno said, watching from the kitchen, ready to step in if he had to.

Phil just smiled at the hybrid before pulling the door open.

He took a step back as he let out a small gasp, meeting the softly glowing eyes of Patches.

_What the fuck was Dream’s cat doing here?_

“What the fuck is Dream’s cat doing here?” Phil asked, stumbling back as the animal forced her way inside, walking into the kitchen and hitting her head against Techno’s thigh, trying to get his attention.

“Uhh,” Techno trailed off, his hands raised awkwardly at his sides as he stared down at the cat, giving her a careful scratch on her head, “you need something Patches?”

She didn’t respond, of course, she just kept hitting Techno’s leg with her head, a low whine emitting from her throat.

“Why is she here?” Phil asked, watching Patches with confusion, a hint of fear hidden just beneath the surface, “especially without Dream.”

As soon as Phil said the man’s name, Patches perked up, turning to watch Phil instead of headbutting Techno’s leg repeatedly.

“Oi, what the fuck,” Phil cried, stepping back at the sudden attention.

Patches paid his shock no mind as she ran over to him, grabbing his sleeve in her teeth before walking towards the open door, Phil stumbling behind her as he was dragged out.

“Uh, what is she doing?” Techno asked, keeping pace with the other two after turning the stove off, moving their abandoned dinner off of the stove.

“I think,” Phil said carefully, steps steadier now, his sleeve still held tightly in Patches’ mouth, “that she wants us to follow her.”

Techno frowned, watching Patches as she ran out of the house, heading towards the woods next to their home.

“Wait wait wait,” Techno said, Patches letting go of Phil’s sleeve to turn and look at the hybrid, something akin to annoyance visible in her glowing eyes, “shouldn’t we like, uh, I dunno, get the others?”

Phil looked at Patches who was shifting on her feet, obviously eager to get back on the road, before looking back at Techno.

“I don’t know if we have time,” Phil said, concern radiating off of him, “Dream might be hurt. Why else would she be here alone?”

Techno bit his lip, considering.

The others deserved to know. if Dream _was_ hurt, (and he prayed to god that wasn’t the case, there had been enough of that for a lifetime) they would want to be there for him, to help in any way they could.

But, if Dream was injured right now, they needed to get there as fast as they could.

And, don’t get Techno wrong. He likes his friends, no matter how much he denies it, he does sometimes enjoy their company.

But, Techno also knows that they aren’t the fastest people, especially under pressure.

Techno nodded at Phil. “We can send them all a message, but we don’t have time to wait. Dream could need us.”

_I’m not gonna leave him alone again,_ was left unsaid, but Phil heard it all the same.

He smiled at Techno, turning back to Patches who had already begun leading them back towards the forest, picking up speed as she began to sprint.

Techno quickly shot out a message to everyone on the server before shoving his communicator in his pocket, simply stating _something wrong w/ Dream. Investigating w/ Phil._

“C’mon Dream,” Techno muttered, jogging next to Patches as they broke into the woods, “don’t give up on us now you bastard.”

* * *

They had been running for hours, night quickly falling as they made their way through the trees, Patches keeping a steady pace in front of the pair, glancing back every now and then, making sure they were still following her.

Techno’s stomach clenched painfully, a glaring reminder that they had to skip dinner, wishing Patches had waited just a bit longer to show up.

He pushed his discomfort down, forcing his feet to move as he kept running, legs aching and chest heaving, gasping for breath with each stride.

Phil had unfolded his wings around thirty minutes into the run, choosing to follow the cat from the skies, calling out to Techno whenever he spotted a mob from up above.

It was dangerous, and Techno had almost been shot at least four times, but they couldn’t afford to stop and wait, fear gnawing at his stomach with every minute that passed.

His mind had begun to wander, various scenarios flashing through his mind.

Dream, limbs twisted, skin stained red as his corpse lay at the bottom of a ravine, one wrong step sending him down towards inevitable doom.  
His body, face down in the forest, arrows stuck in still cooling flesh, claw marks and bites scattered across any visible skin, the clothes he had been so proud of torn and dirty, stained with his own blood.

Dream, trapped between two rocks in the river by his house, the current taking him by surprise, water filling his lungs before he could stop himself, fingers clawing uselessly at the wet rock, trapped beneath the water.

_(Dream, blood pooling down his arms, paper left in front of him, words sloppily written, blood staining the paper-)_

Techno focused on the forest around him, eyes trained on Patches’ back, willing his mind to kindly shut the fuck up.

He could feel Phil’s eyes on his back, watching him from above. Techno knew there was no way Phil knew what he was thinking, but the gaze comforted him anyways. It felt familiar, assured him that he wasn’t alone in all of this.

The trees passed by in a blur, his mind drifting as he ran, everything around him nothing but a distant memory, too far away to touch him.

His ears were filled with the sound of his footsteps on the ground.

_(was this how Dream felt all those months ago? Sprinting through the woods, nothing to keep him company but the sound of his own heartbeat?_

_Just him, alone, leaving everything he had known behind in a blind panic._

_He never got the chance to say goodbye.)_

All Techno could feel was the dirt beneath his aching feet, and all he could see were the leaves racing by as he shoved his way through the branches.

Until he was stumbling through the brush, the familiar sight of Dream’s cottage greeting his eyes as he slowed to a stop.

Or, it was _supposed_ to be a familiar sight.

Nothing about what he saw was familiar.

In place of the home he had spent months building, raising from the ground up with his own two hands, was complete, and utter _ruin._

Chunks of splintered wood were scattered across the earth, parts of the earth torn up, dirt and crops littering the ground in disarray. 

The tree they had sat beneath all those months ago was uprooted, the swing that hung from its branches lost down the river, branches torn from the tree by whatever the fuck had hit this place.

The worst part was the cottage itself.

It was gone. Walls torn down, the roof fully caved in, the wood still damp from the rain, left in pieces, the dust still settling.

Everything was destroyed. There were shards of glass _(and Techno remembers helping Dream forge that himself, gathering the sand with the masked man, filling the furnaces and forming the panes with care, helping Dream fit them into the windows when his hands began to shake)_ scattered across the earth.

There were vague hints of what had once stood there. Chunks of furniture that somehow stayed standing, half of the table digging into the ground a few feet away from where it once sat, broken picture frames and torn books destroyed around them.

Techno heard Phil land behind him, taking in a quick breath at the state of the home, his hand coming up to cover his mouth at the sight.

He paid the man no mind, eyes focused on the deep, glistening red that coated the grass beneath a pile of rubble.

_Blood._

There was a small pool of it beneath the chunks of fallen roof and wall that had landed in a heap, bits of red staining parts of the wood.

Techno spun around frantically, searching for any sign that Dream wasn’t under there, that he was fine, and the blood wasn’t his, and he wasn’t injured and alone.

There was no way Dream would be taken out by one storm. Right?

_He was weak,_ the voices called out in his mind, sounding suspiciously close to the one voice he longed to hear right now, _he was weak and alone and caught off guard, and there was no one there to protect him._

_Where were you Techno? Why did you leave?_

He was broken from his thoughts by a hand grabbing his shoulder, forcing him to face Phil as the man rubbed his shoulder, trying to calm the hybrid.

“Techno,” Phil called, his voice distant in Techno’s ears, but still audible, “you need to snap out of it okay? I can’t get Dream out on my own, I need you with me right now.”

Techno blinked, processing the words as he stood there, finally understanding the severity of the situation.

Time was of the essence, he could have as many breakdowns as he wanted _later._

Once Dream was safe.

Techno nodded, bringing up a hand to squeeze Phil’s in reassurance, before turning and making his way to the pile of rubble, Phil close behind.

Patches was pawing at the ground around it, low whines coming out of her throat as she bared her fangs at the chunks of wood, as if she could simply intimidate them off of Dream.

Phil gave her an absentminded pat on the head as he walked past, Techno heading straight towards the pile, rolling up his sleeves as he moved.

“Okay,” Techno said, turning to Phil as he stepped up next to the hybrid, “we need to move the wood off piece by piece so it doesn’t just collapse on Dream all over again once we reach him.”

Phil winced at the thought, giving Techno a grim nod.

They both got to work quickly, pulling off piece after piece, silence thick in the air between them, all of their attention focused on the task at hand.

It took around fifteen minutes, sweat dripping down both of their faces, their shirts stuck to their backs with the effort, chests heaving for breath as they continued to pull the wood off of their friend.

Techno didn’t see what he was throwing behind him, eyes distant and gaze unfocused, but he snapped back into reality at the sound of Phil’s cry.

“Techno! His arm,” Phil said, pointing to the ground a few feet in front of them.

There, stained in red, splinters sticking out of the visible skin, peeking out between two chunks of roof, was Dream’s arm.

Techno pushed himself into motion, muscles aching and his back screaming for a break, but he only moved faster, desperate to get his friend out of the early grave he had fallen into.

“Oh fuck, Dream,” Phil whispered behind him, rushing over to Techno’s side.

Together, they began pulling the debris off of their friend, dust clouding the air and sending the two into harsh coughing fits, but never enough to stop them.

It took maybe two minutes, but it felt like years to Techno.

Slowly, trying to injure Dream as little as possible, they cleared the wreck from on top of his body, Techno gently pulling him into his arms, carrying him back, away from the ruined home.

Looking down at the body in his arms, Techno saw just how awful Dream looked.

His face was covered in blood and dirt, his hair tangled and matted in the same state. There were shards of glass and chunks of wood sticking out of his skin in various places, dried blood stuck to his skin, and some fresh blood sluggishly trailing down his arms from where the wounds had reopened with all the movement.

There were bruises on every available patch of skin, deep purple a stark contrast to the man’s usually pale skin.

His hands were the worst, fingertips bloody and filled with splinters from where Dream had attempted to claw his way out, one of his nails completely torn off, leaving nothing but a bloody scab behind.

Some of his fingers were obviously broken, crushed beneath the roof as it fell, joints swollen and an angry red.

His entire body was awful, trembling in Techno’s arms, even in unconsciousness. There wasn’t a clear patch of skin in sight, everything either covered in blood or dirt or a disgusting mix of the two.

Phil rushed to Techno’s side as he gently laid Dream on the ground, hands hovering uselessly above his ruined body.

For a moment, Techno wasn’t even sure if Dream was alive. He looked so frail and broken, covered in his own blood, eyes shut in a cruel mockery of sleep that so often evaded the man.

But then, Techno saw the slight rise and fall of his chest. No matter how strained it was, Dream was _alive._

“You got him Tech,” Phil said, gently grabbing Techno’s hands and placing them in his lap, offering him the kindest smile he could muster, “let me take over now. You can rest.”

Techno felt a hand running through his hair for a moment, gently tugging at the long strands, before pulling away, leaving him cold.

He stayed next to Phil as the man got to work, pulling out the first aid kit he had managed to grab on his way out of the house.

Patches sat on the other side of Dream, staring at his bloody and bruised face, whining before gently licking his chin before laying down next to him, offering any comfort she could and giving an almost musical purr, like a mother trying to hum her baby to sleep.

Phil began to pull the shards of glass from Dream’s skin, wincing each time they caught on something or pulled at his flesh, blood now steadily pouring from the wounds.

Techno just kept watching Dream’s face, searching for any sign of the man waking up.

There was an occasional flinch or whine from the man, but other than that he was out cold, seemingly oblivious to his rescue.

_Good,_ Techno thought, _he shouldn’t have to suffer through this as well. Not now._

Phil patched Dream up as best as he could in silence, the closest thing he offered as conversation were small comments muttered to himself under his breath, face stuck in a pained grimace throughout the whole ordeal.

He hadn’t spoken to Dream much before this. A few words in passing, kind greetings when they noticed each other, but never anything substantial.

_(That didn’t mean he hadn’t known everything about the man._

_He knew more than most, if he was being honest. Whenever Techno ranted about the man, talking about their latest spar, or the conversation they had on his farm, Phil listened to every word he said._

_The man obviously meant a lot to his son, Phil wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to learn more about him._

_Thinking back on it, Phil wished he had taken the initiative and spoken to Dream._

_Maybe if he had, all of this could’ve been avoided completely. Maybe he could’ve stopped it all before it started, if Dream had just had_ one _person on his side throughout it all._

_Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve._

_The past was the past, and maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference in the end. Maybe it would’ve just added one more body to the mass who called for Dream’s blood, just one more person lost in the fray that fateful night._

_All that mattered was that Phil was here now. He could help Dream now, speak to the man how he wished he had long ago._

_Dream wouldn’t be alone any more. He would make sure of it.)_

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun was rising and the night was slowly turning to day, the stars above fading from view as the dawn of a new day replaced them.

Finally, after splinting Dream’s fingers as best as he could, setting the bones and tying them together, Phil sat back, sighing deeply.

“He’ll live,” Phil said, staring at the man in front of them, all of the blood and dirt now hidden beneath bandages, blood slowly seeping through the cloth in various places.

Techno nodded, not bothering to turn and look at the man, his eyes fixed firmly on Dream’s face.

There was a pile of bloody glass and wood on the ground next to Dream, each piece having been, at one point, inside of the unconscious man.

The sight of it made Techno want to vomit, his stomach flipping at the reminder of yet another one of Techno’s quickly growing failures.

He reached forward with a shaky hand, taking Dream’s in his own, careful not to jostle his injured fingers.

He just needed the comfort of his friend, the assurance that he was alive and that, no matter how close it had gotten, they made it in time.

“Oh shit,” he heard Phil mutter behind him, and Techno shifted slightly to look at the man, ignoring the way his muscles screamed in protest at the movement.

“What?” he asked, watching as Phil hunched over his communicator, fingers quickly typing something on the screen before he looked up, eyes meeting Techno’s.

He held up his communicator for Techno to see.

There were hundreds of unread messages, each member of the SMP frantically asking what was happening, where they were, and if Dream was okay.

Techno shut his eyes, not even needing to check to know that his messages were going to look almost identical to Phil’s, if not worse.

That was a problem for another time.

“Tell them we died or something, maybe then they’ll leave us alone,” Techno said, eyes still shut in exhaustion, shoulders slumping with the effort of staying upright.

Phil laughed, but they both knew their worry wasn’t uncalled for. If the roles were reversed, Techno and Phil would have done the exact same thing.

“I’m just gonna tell them Dream was hurt, but we got to him in time. We can explain it in more detail once we make it back,” Phil said, looking back down at his communicator. “Besides, these bandages aren’t gonna last long, we need actual medical supplies, and fast.”

Techno groaned but nodded none the less, his back cracking as he forced himself to his feet.

Phil gathered up the remains of his medical supplies, slinging the bag across his shoulder as he stretched, eyes pointedly ignoring the pile of glass and wood stained red.

Techno reached down and gathered Dream in his arms, pulling him close to his chest despite how much his arms screamed at him to drop the man.

“Alright,” Phil said, stepping up next to Techno, brushing hair from his eyes as the sun rose behind him, “let’s go.”

The pair made their way back through the forest, slower than their mad dash to get here, but a sense of urgency still evident in their posture.

Patches walked next to Techno, glancing up to Dream as he rested in Techno’s arms every so often, silent throughout the trip.

The sun hung high in the sky, shining down through the foliage as they walked.

Dream was finally coming home.

Techno wished it was by choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw ur cottagecore life collapses on you but god wont let you die !
> 
> the past few chapters were all kinda short but like, quality not quantity amiright aha
> 
> patches is the only bitch i respect !!!
> 
> i always feel like i have so much planned to say in the notes, but whenever i write them i am simply no thoughts head empty, so thank you for reading this chapter!!
> 
> if u liked it pls consider leaving a comment/kudos, and check me out on insta @ caydiink if ur interested!!
> 
> ily guys and thank u for making it this far :)) until next chapter


	16. old memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AFDFBHJFBHJFGG sorry for the wait, i was very busy with applications and shit and i didn't have as much time to write as usual, but we out here winning with a new update aha ;)

Dream woke slowly, his mind fuzzy and mouth dry as he regained consciousness, eyes blinking slowly, squinting against the light around him.

He laid there for a moment, mind blank as he took everything in, trying to remember what happened.

He looked around the unfamiliar room, felt blankets beneath his _(bandaged?)_ hands and a soft bed _(so different from the bed he usually slept on, made of hay and wool, shoved into the corner of his room haphazardly, this was soft,_ too _soft-)_ beneath him.

_Where was he?_

Dream shut his eyes, and felt every ache and pain in his body, nausea riddling his form, his muscles sore and bones weary.

He was exhausted. Everything hurt, and Dream didn’t know where he was or what had happened.

His eyes opened, squinting against the dim light in the room, even that too bright for him, and he looked down at himself.

There were bandages covering his arms, soaked through with blood in some areas. Two of his fingers were taped together, and any attempt at moving them was met with a sharp, throbbing pain in his entire hand.

Dream stared down at his body, the majority of his injuries hidden beneath the blanket draped over him.

He looked at his hands, _(felt the ghosts of splinters digging into his flesh, jagged wood tearing wounds into him like a hot knife through butter, the life he had struggled to build, to prove himself worthy of, now tearing him down from the outside in-)_ and it all came flooding back.

_(The house, swaying dangerously in the wind, creaking and groaning at every shift, threatening collapse every moment he sat there within it._

_Dream had feared it, had worried about everything crashing down around him, burying him in the mistakes of his past, any hope of a future crumbling before him._

_He had feared it, but he hadn’t expected that fear to become reality._

_He remembers flinching as the roof first caved in. The thundering crash, the sound of rain now inside his house, the wind roaring and the cold air biting at his skin._

_Dream watched as his life fell apart around him, backed into a corner, hands over his head as he prayed for it to leave him_ alone. __

_He wanted to go back to the way things were, he wanted to go back before everything. before the wars and the fighting and the hatred and the betrayal._

_He wanted his friends, he wanted his_ fucking family. __

_But they hated him now, right? That’s why he was_ here, _alone in the eye of the storm and not a single soul around to hear his cries._

_He deserved this, right? This is what everyone wanted._

_Because if it wasn't what he deserved, then he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be facing this alone, he wouldn’t have to go through all of this, he wouldn’t have to hurt this way._

_Bad things happen to bad people, and he was as bad as they came._

_It didn’t matter that he wanted to do better. It didn’t matter that he choked on the guilt as if it were blood bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill out every second of every day as he tried to force it down, choking on the taste._

_Nothing mattered anymore. Not what he had done, not what he had tried to become, not the storm raging around him as he cried into the silence of the night, muffled by the cries of thunder and the unrelenting rain._

_He sat there in the corner, clinging to himself as the rain soaked his clothes, water dripping down his face, mixing with the tears and blood that already coated his skin._

_The sound of the rain pelting the ground around him slowly changed, and he wasn’t sure if it was the rain he heard, or the sound of footsteps chasing him through the woods as he ran, clinging to life by one small thread, grasping at any chance of escape._

_He couldn’t tell if the echoing crashes and splintering wood was the roof of his house caving in, hitting the floor with a deafening sound, or if it was the sound of a shoulder hitting a door, old wood threatening to crack with each hit, splinters flying as the assault continued._

_Dream wasn’t sure what he was afraid of anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was the storm that raged around him or the friends who raged within themselves, anger and hatred rising until they burst._

_He wasn’t sure if he had ever truly escaped them. He wasn’t sure if he had lived, or if this was just fate showing him the life he could have had if he had been just a bit better, just a bit smarter or faster or stronger or nicer._

_Dream wasn’t sure of anything anymore.)_

The world came crashing into him all at once, hitting him the chest and leaving him gasping for breath, choking on air as he pushed himself up on shaking arms, ignoring the pain that shot through him as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Everything blurred around him, the forest, the cottage, the room, all blending into one world, one life, one moment.

Dream didn’t know where he was, he wasn’t even confident he knew _who_ he was.

But Dream knew one thing for certain.

He had to get out.

Dream shoved the blanket off of him, ignoring the rush of cold air that met him, longing for the warmth and comfort of the blanket, the safety it offered and the promise of security.

But so many promises had been broken and Dream wasn’t going to sit down and let another one crack, no matter how much he longed to just stop.

Stop running, stop hiding, stop fearing the world he had built.

He wants to know when everything he had once been so proud of had gone sour, everything he had found beautiful now twisted, everyone he loved now gone and moved on without him.

He wants to know when everything changed, leaving him alone in the past, his mistakes piling up behind him as he tries to run on broken legs, dragging himself forward through the mud and the pain with bruised and bloody fingers.

What Dream wanted didn’t matter though. It never had. He had to shove down his own desires and put the server, his friends, his family above it all. It was fine though, he had accepted that fact years ago.

He shoved himself off of the bed, _(if that’s even what he really sat on. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, the world around him shifting beneath him, warping as he tried to make his way through it)_ stumbling forward for a few steps on shaking legs, already gasping for breath.

Dream didn’t have time to think about how each step sent waves up pain up his spine, or about how his body shook and his legs faltered with every step he forced himself to take. He ignored how badly he wanted to just lay back down and sleep forever, finally resting as he had yearned to for so long.

~~He ignored how badly he wanted Patches by his side, nudging him back to sleep. Patches left too. Patches wouldn’t ever support him like that again.~~

He didn’t have time to think as he shoved the door open, wincing at the sound of it hitting the wall, a loud crack echoing down the _forestcottagehallway._

_(Dream was running for his life, he couldn’t afford to stop, he was always running from something or someone and god he just wanted to_ stop. __

_Dream missed his family. He missed holding Tubbo close, burying his face in his truly unruly hair, breathing in the familiar scent of his brother, knowing he was safe, he was alive, he was here in Dream’s arms._

_Dream misses sitting next to Eret, head on their shoulder and hands clasped beside them. A small gesture, but it meant so much to Dream, the contact, the closeness, the trust it showed. Dream felt that, alone with Eret, no one to judge him but his sibling and the stars above, he could be vulnerable. He was allowed to be weak, for even just a moment._

_He misses spending the days with Sapnap and George, the nights he spent with Wilbur, putting aside their differences in the silence, and just being people for the night._

_He misses being held, being cared for by Puffy and Niki, the comfort he got and the persona he shed, being himself for once._

_Dream misses the life he could have lived, the friends he could have kept and the family he could have made._

_He misses the person he once was, and regrets the man he became.)_

Dream wasn’t sure how long he had before someone found him, before they saw he was trying to escape and decided that he didn’t deserve the luxury of a trial or a fair fight, deciding to take him down where he stood, once and for all.

All he knew was that he needed to get out.

_(The door slamming shut behind him as he gasps for breath, blood staining every inch of him as he hurls himself into the corner, covering his head with his hands as he stared wide eyed at the ground between his knees._

_He was trapped, locked in with no escape, just waiting for someone to bust down to door and kill him, put him out of his goddamn misery-)_

His feet ached as he ran down the hall, stumbling with every step and bracing himself on the wall, his white-knuckled grip on any piece of furniture he could reach was the only thing keeping him standing.

His head pounded as he ran, throbbing in time with the heartbeat blasting in his ears, drowning out any other noise, keeping him trapped within his own mind.

He found himself constantly looking over his shoulder, searching for shadows in the dark, old friends and newer enemies, remnants of memories best left forgotten sneaking up behind him, waiting to strike as soon as he turns his back.

Dream wasn’t sure how long it had been. Had mere seconds gone by? His life changing yet again in the blink of an eye, any sense of stability being yanked out from under him all at once?

Had it been minutes? Hours? Even fucking days at this point, Dream’s mind was so clouded and his surroundings ever-changing, he couldn’t be certain he hadn’t been standing wherever he was for days.

_(The thought made him sick._

_If he couldn’t trust his mind, his very being, the world he saw around him with his own two eyes, then what could he trust?_

_He couldn’t trust anyone, nor the words that fell from plastic smiles and cheery voices. Not warm hands, not soft fur. None of it was real, Dream couldn’t be sure any of it was_ real. __

_It was terrifying. It made his head spin and his heart stutter and his lungs scream for air as he thought about it, slowly getting buried beneath the weight of it all._

_Was Dream free? Was Dream real? Was Dream alive?_

_Or was he a ghost, condemned to live out eternity in a constant state of paranoia, never certain what was real and what wasn’t?_

_Will he be forced to question his very being every second of every day of every week of every month of every year of every lifetime?_

_How long could he withstand it? How long before he broke under the pressure, left with nothing but the choice to simply keep breaking?_

_And how could Dream be certain his mind hadn’t broken already?_

_Maybe Dream was no more, only pieces of the man he used to be scattered where he once stood, broken remnants of the shell he had become.)_

Dream’s hand grasped what he assumed was a railing, and he stood on shaking legs at the top of the stairs.

He looked down, wood fading into earth as the home he had believed himself to be in shifted and twisted until he was back in the forest, branches reaching out to bind him and roots waiting to trip him up as he ran.

He swallowed down bile, hand shaking as he gripped the railing, and he took one small step down the stairs, chest heaving as he gasped for air god wouldn’t grant him.

Dream stood on the top step, testing it, waiting for something to happen, for him to fall through the floorboards or a sword to pierce his spine or the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

Dream waited for his punishment long overdue, the actions of his past finally catching up to him, secrets and lies and regrets once buried now out in the open for all to see.

He waited, eyes shut and body trembling, tears silently streaming down his face.

He stood there, ready to accept whatever fate god had decided was befitting of a monster such as himself, awaiting it with open arms and the ghost of a smile plastered on his face.

_(Maybe this was his fate, to stand here on this staircase, eyes shut and arms open, and wait._

_Maybe he would stand here for years to come, waiting for condemnation that would never strike, fear always clawing at his stomach, meaningless words and apologies bubbling in his throat as he knew there would be no one there to listen._

_Maybe this was all he was meant to be._

_A man who fancied himself a god, left alone and unloved as he waited for someone to see him, to hurt him or kill him or torture him or notice him at all._

_Maybe he was always meant to fall._

_Maybe Dream was always meant to die alone.)_

But nothing happened.

Dream stood there with his chest exposed and arms spread open and still nothing happened.

He stood there, and faintly in the distance, beneath the fear coursing through him and the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, he heard people.

_Lots of people._

Dream heard murmurs and snippets of conversations his mind was too far gone to understand, and there was only one thought running through his mind as he listened to them chatter.

_They’re coming for me, I have to leave._

Broken from his stupor, his arms dropping to his side and shoulders tensing, Dream made his way down the stairs, feet thumping on every step but heeding it no mind, the only thing that mattered was making it out alive.

He felt a distant pain, something making it way through his body, infecting every last nook and cranny of his being as he ran, but he couldn’t focus on that now, he _wouldn’t._ There was too much at stake, he couldn’t falter now.

His knee buckled beneath him as he made his way down the stairs, barely catching himself in time, limping his way to the exit, freedom just within his grasp.

He heard shouting from the other room, voices and feet and people getting closer, all running at him, trying to get to him, trying to _stop him._

Dream gasped in shock or pain or fear he did not know, but he kept moving, never stopping despite how much his leg hurt or the blood he could feel seeping down his side and his arms, soaking through the bandages and clothes that covered him.

There were people behind him and dirt beneath him and his past choices beside him and a future in front of him that was just within reach, he just had to make it there first.

He stumbled forward blindly, eyes wide with panic and mind blank, grasping at the door in front of him and forcing his way through it.

His shoulder throbbed distantly from where it had rammed into the wood _(It was just like that night in the shed, was he out now? Did he finally escape? Could he put it all behind him now?)_ but he paid it no mind, placing one foot in front of the other as he ran from whatever hell had confined him.

Dream ran, mud cold and wet beneath his bare feet, twigs and leaves and whatever other shit was on the forest floor digging into his skin as he ran.

_(He didn’t realize how the earth was smooth beneath his feet, the odd rock or plant painful, but nowhere near the carnage the forest floor had caused._

_He didn’t notice how it wasn’t mud below him, but a wooden path, winding its way through the city he sprinted from, eyes unseeing as the building blended in with the trees._

_He didn’t notice anything as he ran, blinded by his panic and his reluctance to see just how much he had truly lost._

_He couldn’t face the life he had destroyed, nor the life he had taken from himself with every wrong choice, stolen from his grasp by his own two hands._

_Dream couldn’t trust anything, but he certainly couldn’t trust himself.)_

The sounds of voices yelling behind him only made him run faster, wind whipping against his exposed face, tear tracks staining his cheeks and blood staining his hands, pain wracking every inch of his body.

His thigh aches with every step, threatening to collapse with every step, but he can’t stop for even a moment, very aware of the people chasing after him.

_(An arrow pierced his thigh, blood trailing down his leg as he kept running, sobs breaking free from him as he ran._

_He couldn’t stop, couldn’t look at his leg or any other wound or any of his friends, he couldn’t afford a distraction he had to go had to keep moving-)_

Dream swerved around trees, ducking past branches and waving through the foliage, trying to lose the hunters behind him, trying to run from something he knew he would never escape.

He was just prolonging the inevitable. Dream knew that, he _knew_ there was no getting out of this, so why did he keep running?

_(He remembers everyone surrounding him, the flashing of blades and the piercing sting of arrows skewering him, the blood that sprayed across his face and his hands as he fought back mercilessly._

_Well, not completely mercilessly._

_He would catch glances of Tubbo, sword held in two hands and shoulders tense, his eyes wide and sad and everything about the sight made Dream want to drop everything and surrender, accept whatever punishment they deemed fit._

_He would see Tubbo or Eret standing on their own, backs open and vulnerable, the perfect target for his axe already coated in his friends’ blood._

_He would decide he didn’t need to add his family’s blood into the mix as well._

_Dream would turn and walk the other way, diving headfirst into a group of three people, wincing as blade after blade cut into him, digging deeper and deeper into him, drawing more and more blood as he only grew weaker._

_He couldn’t find it within him to care though._

_Better him than his family, and if someone was dying in the fight tonight, Dream would make sure it wasn’t either of his siblings.)_

Dream faltered for a moment, memories breaking the blank void his mind had become, stumbling as he gasped for breath.

He remembered how it felt, wrapped in the arms of his family, of his siblings on either side of him, huddled together, the only thing they had left in this cruel, broken world.

Dream longed to just stop, and let those arms hold him again. He craved the warmth that came with them, the companionship, and loyalty, and love he had never felt so truly than with them.

He wanted to stop running and settle, he wanted everything to just _stop._

But the people behind him were still running and time stops for no man, so Dream gripped his arms with bloody, shaking hands and kept running.

He ran down hills and through fields and across rivers and roads and everything he could imagine but never truly trust, unsure if he was ever actually moving to begin with.

Dream ran until his chest was heaving and the metallic taste of blood coated the back of his throat, dry, broken, heaving cough rattling his chest with every step he took.

His foot caught on something and he tripped, stumbling forward a few steps before crashing to the ground, palms scraping against the earth as he tried to stop his fall.

He sat there in shock for a moment, eyes wide and unseeing as he realised what happened.

He tried to force himself to his feet, willed his legs to move and his arms to work and the world to stop but to no avail.

Tears burned in his eyes as he squeezed them shut, rolling onto his back with a groan as he caught his breath.

The footsteps were gaining quickly, he could hear people yelling and clothes rustling and pleading cries overlapping with frantic calls.

Dream didn’t know where he was, everything blurring together into one horrifying landscape, no way out and no way forward, left alone to finally face his greatest regrets.

He sat up as the footsteps approached, stopping a few feet away from him, curling in on himself as he waited for them all to strike.

His hands gripped his hair as he tried to cover his head, hide his face and his shame and his weakness from the world that had shown him no mercy so far.

Broken sobs tore from his ruined throat, weak and pitiful in the silence that had overtaken the world, everything going quiet in anticipation for his final judgement.

“Please,” he said, voice rough and a manic, pleading edge beneath it all, “please just… make it quick.”

He got no response other than a few gasps, quickly cut off and muffled beneath hands.

_(Hands clean, unstained with blood or guilt, unlike his._

_His hands that had fought and killed and hurt, but never soothed or healed or helped._

_Dream felt bad, that they tainted their unmarred hands with his own sins, weeping for a man who deserved nothing but scorn._

_He wanted to cry out, to tell them to forget him, to kill him and move on, that he wasn’t worth their grief or their pity or anything they offered him._

_He wanted to scream and rage and spit in the face of whichever god put him here, on this earth, in this forest in this town on this server in this position of power he had never even wanted._

_Bad things happen to bad people though, and Dream deserved everything he got._

_It was the only way he could cope with what he was given.)_

Dream sat there shaking, body screaming in agony, waiting for it all to be over and done with once and for all.

He waited for the sound of a sword being unsheathed, the footsteps of his executioner slowly drawing closer, each footstep building the dread and fear within him as he waited for his inevitable defeat.

He sat there and waited for a fate that never came.

Instead of the edge of a blade or tip of an arrow as he had expected, Dream felt a hand gently placed on his head, ruffling his hair slightly, tugging at a few of the tangles.

Dream flinched back, his hands raising to cover his face as he pushed himself back with his legs, scrambling through the dirt beneath him.

“It’s okay,” whoever it was said softly, taking a small, careful step towards him, “you’re okay Dream, you’re not gonna be hurt again.”

His eyes widened and he looked up from behind his hands, glassy, terrified green eyes meeting Niki’s calm, tear filled brown ones.

Could it be true? Could he really trust her, the words she said and the kindness she offered?

_You have been hurt before,_ his mind whispered, curling around his heart as he stared at Niki’s opened hands, an offer, extended towards him as she crouched in front of him , _you have been used, deceived, hurt in this way before. You cannot trust them._

Dream knew that. He knew he had been hurt, he still _was_ hurting, every day and every night.

But, as his mind cleared and the panic slowly began to fade, Dream remembered.

He remembered late nights with Techno and Phil, an easy warmth and steady conversation between the three, despite how Dream’s hands shook.

He remembered Tommy and Quackity running through the crops, screaming with joy and laughter and excitement as Ghostbur chased after the pair, a genuine smile replacing the usual wide, fake grin the ghost wore.

He remembered Fundy speaking to him excitedly, arms waving wildly as he spoke of a new idea, treating Dream as he had before it all fell apart, treating him like a person.

He remembered Niki holding his hand as he limped into the kitchen, wincing with every step, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, gently brushed away by her soft thumb, a gentle melody gracing his ears as she hummed, never once leaving his side.

He remembered sitting with George, Sapnap and Bad, laughing for the first time in what felt like years, cheeks sore from how much he had smiled, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks, the comforting feeling of a hand holding his as they sat together, like they had all those months ago.

He remembered Tubbo and Eret, holding him beneath the stars, whispering reassurances into his ear as he sobbed, the confirmation that they were _there_ and next to him enough to ground him, keeping him from slipping into memories he would rather forget.

He remembers being hurt, he remembers hurting in return, and he remembers a rage building within him, festering and growing until he couldn’t contain it anymore.

Dream has been hurt. He has been broken and come back from the ashes that had remained, and he was still piecing himself back together, bit by bit.

But, he doesn’t have to be alone for that.

He doesn’t have to suffer silently, not anymore.

Finally, for once in his life, Dream will be _heard._

He nods, and that’s all Niki needs before she’s gathering him in her arms, a soothing hand rubbing up and down his back as he sobs into her shoulder, tears and blood staining her shirt.

She doesn’t complain once, just holding him, whispering into his ear as he shook, one hand carding softly through his hair.

“You’re alright,” she said softly, warm breath tickling his ear as she spoke, “we have you Dream, you can stop running.”

There was the sound of someone stepping closer, and Dream looked up from where his head was buried in Niki’s shoulder, hands still clinging to the back of her shirt.

His wide eyes met Bad’s soft gaze, standing a few feet away, hands held out in front of him placatingly.

He smiled at Dream, eyes glassy but hope genuine, and Dream couldn’t help but offer a small, watery smile in return.

The rest of the server stood a little ways away, watching the interaction closely, but giving him room to breathe, making sure not to crowd him.

He couldn’t stop the sob of pure relief he let out at the words Bad said, voice soft but the words still strong.

“Welcome home, Dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are almost there.... the end is in sight.... this has been sm fun to write and i'm so happy other people enjoyed it as well!!!
> 
> big thank u to silver for betaing yet again, there are so many small mistakes I would have missed w/out them AFDSHJDFBHDFHBGF <333
> 
> i am sorry for the pain.... i promise there is still comfort yet to come!!!
> 
> probably gonna post a oneshot next, then the next chapter of the immortal dream fic. after that, who knows? :)
> 
> if you liked this chapter pls consider leaving a comment/kudos, and also hmu on instagram @ caydiink, we just hit 1k bois ;)
> 
> thank you all so much for reading <33 ily guys


	17. moving forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we did it boys...... we made it.........

A soft breeze blew through the clearing, the grass and other plants swaying gently in the wind, the sun shining down from above.

Dream stood in the middle of the clearing, his eyes shut as he let the world overtake him, the sun warm on his cheeks, his skirt swaying gently, brushing against his ankles as he let the wind rush by, loose strands of hair falling from his ponytail and brushing against his cheeks.

He took a deep breath. In and out.

The air was sweet, the scent of a fresh start and new beginnings heavy on his tongue.

He was warm.

He was safe.

He was _home._

Dream turned around, letting his arms fall to his sides as he crouched down to grab his fallen cane, the deep oak wood glinting dully in the sun, a familiar feeling in his palm as he made his way down the dusty path.

_(“It’s for you!” Tubbo said with a grin, holding the package out towards Dream. Eret rested a hand on their younger brother’s shoulder, their smile giving away the excitement they felt._

_Dream looked at the package now in his grasp, covered haphazardly in green paper and tape._

_It was a mess, clearly wrapped by inexperienced hands, and Dream could see where the paper had been torn many times, hastily covered with multiple layers of tape._

_It was perfect._

_“Tommy and Big Q helped me wrap it!” Tubbo said brightly, bouncing on his toes as he waited for Dream to open it, “Eret and Niki were with us, but they didn’t help much.”_

_Eret ruffled Tubbo’s hair, laughing at his cry of protest, “As if any of you little gremlins would let us help. We both offered multiple times to help you wrap it, but Tommy said, and I quote, ‘fuck you, we are big strong men and we can wrap one gift on our own, bitch.’”_

_Tubbo laughed, shoving Eret’s hand off of his head. “Yeah yeah,” he said sheepishly, cheeks red with excitement and embarrassment, “but did you really expect anything else? It’s Tommy we’re talking about.”_

_Eret hummed in response, smiling at Tubbo quickly before facing Dream again, lips quirked in a gentle smirk._

_“Go on,” they said, “open it.”_

_Tubbo nodded enthusiastically, hands clasped in front of his chest. “Yeah!” he said, smiling widely, “open it! You’re gonna love it!”_

_Dream chuckled at his siblings’ antics, watching them for a moment longer before turning back to the gift in his hands._

_He tore the paper away carefully, placing the shreds of wrapping paper on the table next to him, where they would most likely stay until Puffy or Niki visited and made him clean it up._

_Beneath the paper, once all of it had been discarded, sat a wooden cane._

_“Do you like it?” Tubbo asked, his previous excitement replaced with a nervous edge, the bottom of his shirt twisted between anxious fingers as he waited for his brother’s response._

_The cane was well crafted, intricate vines carved into the wood, covering the entirety of the stick. It was a deep brown, dark oak mixed with hints of spruce, a dull finish coating the piece, giving it an older feel. The top was rounded, fitting comfortably in his palm as he held it, rings of gold embedded into the wood near the top and bottom of the cane._

_He held it in his hands, and was reminded of his weakness. Of his leg that would never work properly again, of the way he would stumble and trip doing even the most basic tasks._

_He looks down at it,_ really _looks, and he sees the arms of his friends catching him immediately, wrapping around him and steadying him at every turn, with every stumble or every fall. He remembers being knocked down, hitting the dirt as his body betrays him time and time again._

_He remembers getting up, dusting his hands off, and trying again. He remembers hands in his as he keeps going, no matter how hard he may fall or how many times he may stumble._

_Dream looks down at the cane in his hands, the brace on his wrist a stark contrast to the bare skin of his unmarred hand, and he doesn’t see a weakness._

_He sees a new beginning. He sees how far he has fallen, but he also sees just how much further he’s climbed._

_Dream looks up at Tubbo and smiles, tears gathering in his eyes as he sets the cane down gently in his lap and signs quickly._

_‘I love it.’_

_Eret smiles brightly as Tubbo lets out a happy cry, racing forward and pulling his brother into a tight hug, arms wrapping around his neck as he leaned into Dream._

_Dream’s hands shot up immediately, rubbing Tubbo’s back as he buried his face in Tubbo’s hair, breathing deeply as they both sat there in the embrace._

_Dream looked up at met Eret’s eyes behind the glasses, nodding his head and beckoning his sibling over._

_Eret complied immediately, reaching their brothers in two quick straides, wrapping their arms around the two, joining their embrace easily._

_Dream wrapped his arms around both of his siblings, his cheeks burning from how wide he was smiling, fingers digging into the shirts of his family as he pulled them closer._

_The cane sat in his lap as he held onto his family, a reminder of the support he had and the people who were there to catch him when he fell._

_Dream knew, sitting in his home, held by his family, that he wasn’t alone._

_He wouldn’t have it any other way.)_

The cane thumped softly against the earth with every step he took, digging into the dirt as he leaned heavily against it, relishing the feeling of grass beneath his feet as he made his way towards his home.

It was a small home. Comfortable, with enough space for people to visit, but not overbearing. He didn’t feel like he was drowning when he pushed open the door and stepped inside, smiling at the familiar scent of fresh bread that wafted through the home.

It was bigger than the one he had built himself, an added benefit of having quite literally the _entire_ SMP insist on helping him build it, no one taking no for an answer.

Dream protested constantly, complaining every chance he got that _’really you guys don’t have to help, I’m crippled, not useless,’_ because of course he did, who wouldn’t?

_(Sign language came easier than words ever could. Ever since the day of the storm, the aches and pains and wounds that still lingered, Dream had taken to speaking with his hands instead of his voice._

_They would cramp and twitch and ache at the end of the day, but it felt so much better than anything he could say ever would.)_

But he smiled with every complaint, grinning at his friends even as he whined at them, each and every one of them rolling their eyes at his antics before squeezing his shoulder or patting his arm and getting back to work.

It didn’t take long, a week at most if he included gathering resources, for the house to be finished.

Dream would be a liar if he said he didn’t cry, standing in front of his new home, in the woods next to L’Manberg in a clearing only a fifteen minute walk away from everyone else.

He was isolated here, he had the calm he had loved so much about his old home, but he wasn’t _alone._

There wasn’t a day that went by without someone from the SMP visiting him, or him venturing into town, whether it was to pick up some food or just for a visit, he was never alone. Slowly but surely, relationships were rebuilt, just as his home was, new bonds forming as Dream got used to life with everyone again.

It was jarring, having his friends only a fifteen minute walk away. He was used to the weekly visits, the loneliness that would sink in throughout the rest of the week until he heard the knock at his door that told him his family had kept their promise and came back.

It was different, it was a bit terrifying, but it was so much _better._

Dream would wake up screaming, his wrist in pain and his mind a mess and the walls too close for comfort.

He would pull out his new communicator with shaking hands, sending Sapnap, Bad, and George a message that was riddled with typos, but he knew they would understand.

He would sit on his bed, an actual _bed,_ not just straw and leaves weaved together to form something slightly more comfortable than the floor, and wait for the knock on his door that told him his friends were here.

They were here. They hadn’t left him.

Dream would call to them, telling them was open, even though they already knew that. It was always open. 

They would always wait for Dream’s call.

Dream would sit on his bed, Patches laying next to him, her head in his lap as he ran his shaking fingers through her fur, and his friends would sit with him, speaking in soft voices in the dead of night.

Bad would light the lamp next to his bed, chasing away the shadows creeping in, back to where they came from, covering the room in a soft, warm, comforting glow, memories of the crushing darkness fading quickly as the fire burned brightly beside him.

Sapnap would talk, filling the silence with his voice as Dream listened, speaking of everything and nothing and too much and too little all at once, never letting the quiet take over for even a moment, chasing Dream’s panicked thoughts from his mind and filling the void with meaningless banter and choked laughter.

George would sit next to Dream, their arms pushed together, George’s skin cool against Dream’s clammy, sweaty arm, the shaking slowly subsiding the longer they sat there, a gentle reminder that Dream wasn’t alone, that he was here, that he had made it.

Dream had seen hell and he came back singing, scars and memories a reminder of what he had suffered, his life proof that he would not let his past stop him.

Dream knew that, no matter what he faced, no matter where he went or what he did or what he had suffered through or what he _would_ suffer through, he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

That was all Dream needed, at least for now.

The assurance that he wouldn’t be left behind again, that they wouldn’t betray him or leave him for dead.

_’We won’t,’_ they said silently, offering whatever comfort they could.

_’I know,’_ he replied, and in his heart he knew he believed them.

Dream had accepted the fact that he would never be the same man as he once was. He had been changed beyond recognition, the man he had been was dead and gone, all that remained was the man he had become.

Looking at himself in the mirror, his scarred face staring back at him, cheeks full and flush and his eyes bright, filled with a life he hadn’t known he was missing, Dream thought that maybe, he was okay with that.

The man he had been was dead, and maybe it was for the best. The Dream who had fought wars against children and enjoyed playing god was no more.

The Dream who was content with his farm and his cottage and his simple life in the woods remained, and he couldn’t help but feel like this was always meant to be.

His friends were a huge help, never once leaving him as he struggled to find that acceptance. They sat with him as he sobbed, as he raged and cried until his voice broke again.

Patches was a constant, never leaving his side, a grounding presence beneath his hands as his mind betrayed him, dragging him down into memories better left buried. She was always there, no matter where Dream went or how far he fell, she never left his side. 

It had been bad, at first. Every visit only filled Dream with more anger, tears of frustration gathering in his eyes as he tried to tell everyone how he felt, tried to let the rage that had been building beneath his skin for years out, only to have his voice fail him, the words dying as he opened his mouth.

He had struggled for weeks, anger simmering within him, but never able to boil over. It was stuck in his throat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth all too reminiscent of the blood that had once coated his throat, with no way to _get it out._

Until one day, Dream opened his door with more force than was necessary and was greeted with the sight of Techno standing on his porch, two wooden swords held in his hands as he watched Dream with his usual, uninterested expression.

“Come on,” he had said, his voice rough and eyes cold, “we’re heading out today.”

Dream couldn’t find it in himself to argue, so he just grabbed his cane and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him as he followed Techno down the path.

He tugged on Techno’s shirt quickly, grabbing the hybrid’s attention before quickly signing ’where are we going?’

Techno looked at him for a moment, eyes roaming over the once masked man’s face, before his eyes softened.

“You’ll see,” he had said before turning around and starting to walk. Dream watched the man go for a moment before shrugging and following him, deeper into the woods.

They paused after around twenty minutes of walking, stopping in a relatively open area, still protected from the sun by the leaves of the surrounding trees.

“Here,” Techno said, rolling up his sleeves and handing one of the swords to Dream, who shot the hybrid a look of confusion as he held loosely in his good hand.

Techno stepped back, getting into a fighting stance before looking at Dream, who was standing in the same spot, watching Techno in confusion, motioning to the sword in his hands, an unspoken question left in the air.

“We’re fighting,” Techno said, as if it were obvious. 

Dream just shot him another look of confusion. _Fighting?_

Dream hadn’t fought another person since that night, his hands shaking every time he even looked at a sword or saw another person holding a weapon.

“You’re mad,” Techno continued, voice bored, an underlying hint of regret mixed in with his usual monotone drawl, “but you can’t really do anything about it.”

Dream nodded slowly, staring at the sword in his hand as his grip tightened around the handle.

“Fight me,” Techno continued, his eyes meeting Dream’s evenly, “it helps me, when I’m mad but don’t know how to say it. Sometimes, it’s easier to just beat the shit out of something, rather than sitting down and trying to explain your ‘feelings’ or whatever.”

Dream laughed gently at that, drawing a small smile from Techno.

“Violence is the universal language after all,” he said, cracking his neck as he stretched, motioning for Dream to stand on the other side of the small clearing, “and don’t worry nerd, I promise I won’t go easy.”

That was all Dream needed to hear before he was moving, testing his leg out for a moment before laying the cane on the ground carefully, breathing deeply at the lack of pain from the movement as he walked to the other side of the clearing, standing across from Techno who watched him impatiently.

“Hurry up old man,” Techno taunted, swinging his sword in front of him lazily, “I’m gonna die before we finally start this damn fight.”

Dream flipped him off, rolling his eyes at the hybrid’s laughter before dropping into a defensive stance, the feeling of the sword in his grasp so familiar, yet such a distant memory at the same time.

_’You’re on,’_ his eyes said when his voice couldn’t.

Techno smirked, before racing forwards.

Their swords met with a clash, and Dream grinned widely before losing himself in the familiar song and dance of the spar.

It was so familiar, the push and pull of fighting with Techno. They fell into their usual rhythm of attack and defend, trading blows easily, Techno adding a few comments here and there as they fought, taunting the other man light heartedly.

It was different, in the way he swung to avoid putting too much pressure on his wrist, relying on his speed to avoid attacks instead of facing them head on, dodging and weaving and rolling through the fight, trying to avoid being hit as much as possible.

Dream held his own, adrenaline coursing through him as he fought. It felt so _good_ to fight someone like this again, to release the energy that had been building for weeks without fearing for his safety or his friends’.

He laughed as they ran through the woods, swords swinging wildly as they fought. It was freeing.

Dream swang, relishing in the rush it would send through him, at the power he felt pulsing in his chest, his muscles practically vibrating with the energy and the complete and utter _control_ he felt as he fought.

He watched Techno stumble as he pressed forwards, his foot kicking out before he realised what he was doing, tripping the man before he could recover.

Techno hit the ground with a grunt, wooden sword falling from his grasp.

Dream followed him down, legs kneeling on either side of his torso, gazing down at the man beneath him, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

The world blurred around him as he sat there, chest heaving and gasping for breath.

The woods were closing in, and Dream could feel the corner pressing into his back as he cowered from his friends, his world falling apart around him as he could do nothing but watch.

Dream could feel the fear coursing through him as he shook in the eye of the hurricane, his home crashing down around him, tearing everything he had worked for away from him.

Dream could feel the pitying gazes from his friends when they thought he wasn’t looking, he could feel the hatred they once felt, but _how could he be sure they didn’t still feel it, how could he be sure they weren’t going to betray him again? how could Dream know they weren’t going to kill him, that they weren’t just lulling him into a false sense of security?_

He didn’t know when he had dropped the sword, but Dream could feel his hands shaking as his fists hit Techno’s chest, body trembling as he felt the rage that had been building for weeks finally drain from his tired body.

His fists slammed into Techno weakly, gasping for breath as he felt reality crash down around him, the weight of everything he had been through, everything he had done and had done to him hitting him all at once.

Tears fell as he cried, his hands hitting Techno’s chest over and over, until they finally slowed, coming to a stop, resting on the hybrid, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

He felt hands wrap gently around him, pushing him back slightly as Techno sat up from beneath him, pulling Dream close as he sobbed.

The anger drained from him slowly, leaving only exhaustion in its wake as Dream slumped against Techno.

“You’re okay,” the hybrid said, holding Dream carefully as the blonde cried into his shoulder, “you made it through the worst of it. You did well, nerd.”

Dream chuckled wetly at the familiar nickname, burying his face into Techno’s neck as he wrapped his arms around the man beneath him.

He could feel his chest settle as he calmed, breaths evening out as he sat there in the woods, Techno rubbing his back gently as he caught his breath.

“You good?” he asked, watching Dream carefully through his blood red eyes.

_’I will be,_ Dream signed, head resting against his shoulder yet again.

_(“It’s okay to be mad,” Niki had said, sitting next to Dream on his couch, never looking up from the dress she was embroidering._

_Dream looked up at her from his own piece, a shirt Niki had helped him make the week before. George had complained about all of his clothes looking like ‘ugly piss shirts’, and Sapnap had mentioned that he thought Dream would look nice in a button up, so Dream had finally caved._

_He had shown up at Niki’s house one day, a bundle of blue fabric in his arms, a helpless look on his face._

_She had invited him in with a bright smile, pulling out her sewing kit as he sat down on her couch, telling her about his plans for the shirt as she listened intently, eyes never wandering as he signed._

_‘What do you mean?’ he asked, placing his shirt down gently in his lap as he watched Niki work._

_“You must be angry,” she explained, fingers moving quickly and with experience, needle weaving back and forth through the fabric, “after everything that was done to you.”_

_He nodded slowly, watching her with wary eyes, searching for any hint of judgement or anger._

_“It’s understandable,” she continued, “and you shouldn’t feel bad or, ashamed, or anything like that, for being angry. You deserve your anger. Just because you forgive us, doesn’t mean you can’t hold us accountable.”_

_He didn’t move, and Niki didn’t look up, eyes fixed firmly on the dress in her hands._

_“You don’t owe us forgiveness, and we may never deserve it,” she said, her voice soft and conversational, “it’s up to you to decide.”_

_She tied off her thread, cutting the string carefully as she held the fabric up, admiring her work._

_She met Dream’s eyes carefully, smiling softly at him as she lowered the dress into her lap, smoothing the fabric down gently._

_“No one can tell you how to feel,” she said, grabbing his hand in her own, “never feel bad for being human.”_

_Dream just nodded, swallowing around the lump forming in his throat._

_She squeezed his hand once before picking up her dress again, going back to work without another word._

_Dream watched her for a moment, before following her lead, his head bowed and chest lighter than it had been when he first woke up that morning.)_

The world felt brighter after that day in the woods. His chest was lighter, his exhaustion easing slowly as he let himself _feel._

The days came and went, a familiar rhythm building as the weeks passed.

Everyone visited, his days which had once been filled with nothing but the sounds of the world around him, now consisted of the laughter and conversation of his friends, his world filled with motion and colour as he remembered how good it felt to be loved.

“Ay Big D!” Tommy yelled, making his way down the path to his home, Ghostbur and Quackity trailing behind him, not as loud but no less excited.

Dream waved at the trio, smiling as Tommy stumbled on the path, Quackity sparing no time in laughing at the teen who sputtered and cursed at the ground.

_’What brings you here?’_ Dream asked, brushing the dirt from his pants as he stood from his farm, grabbing the cane that rested against the fence, making his way over to his guests, Patches watching with careful eyes from where she lay in the sun, only a few feet away.

“Oh you know,” Ghostbur said, floating up to Dream as the two teens fought playfully in the background, “it was a nice day out, and Tommy wanted to visit. Quackity wanted to join, and I offered to chaperone them.”

“Hey!” The two teens cried out in synch, matching looks of betrayal on their faces as they stared at the ghost, their expressions only growing as Dream doubled over in laughter.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ _chaperone,_ ” Tommy said, flexing as he glared at Ghostbur who only rolled his eyes fondly, “I am a big, strong man.”

“Sure you are, Tommy,” Quackity said gently, patting Tommy’s arm with one hand as he spoke with fake pity in his voice, “sure you are.”

Tommy yelled a multitude of curse words, chasing after Quackity as they ran through the clearing, shouts and laughter following them as they ran.

“Try not to die!” Ghostbur called after them, following Dream down the path towards his home, nodding at the cries from the teens that they assumed were in confirmation.

“They like being here,” Ghostbur said to Dream as he opened the door, letting the spirit enter the house first, leaving the door open as he followed the ghost inside.

_’I like having them here,’_ Dream signed, walking towards the kitchen, Ghostbur following him by his side, _’they don’t talk about what happened. It feels like it was before. It’s nice.’_

Ghostbur floated through the wall into the kitchen, smiling at Dream as they entered the room, already pulling out some apples and bread, making some snacks for the teens who would undoubtedly whine for a snack once they were done running around outside.

“Kids are good at that,” Ghostbur said, watching Dream cut the apples into slices, the knife wavering ever so slightly in his grip, “moving on, and all that shit.”

Dream nodded, placing the slices of apples on a plate.

“They don’t understand it all,” he continued, a wistful tinge to his voice, “they don’t get how serious it actually was. How close they were to losing you.”

They both looked out the window, watching the two teens wrestling in the grass, smiling as they fought playfully, their clothes rumpled and faces coated in dirt.

“They’ll understand one day,” Ghostbur continued, “and they’ll feel bad. They’ll feel the fear they didn’t have to experience now. They’ll know, just how close they were to heartbreak. They’ll see how bad it had been, and how much you protected them.

“They’ll thank you, for keeping it from them, especially at this age,” Ghostbure said, smiling at Dream, who had placed the knife down on the counter, watching the ghost with wide eyes. “They’ll thank you, and everything will be okay. It wasn’t okay, it might not even be okay right now, but it will be.”

Ghostbur watched the two through the window, a soft look on his face, “They’re gonna be alright.”

Dream nodded, watching a small smile break out on Ghostbur’s face, before turning back to the food in front of him.

_He was going to be okay,_ he thought as he cut through the loaf of bread, grabbing some jam from his fridge.

Dream heard the sound of laughter fill the house as two pairs of footsteps stomped into the front room, their voices loud and carefree.

“Dream,” Tommy whined from the sitting room, the sound of two bodies falling onto the couch audible, even from the kitchen, “we’re hungry Big D. I think it legally counts as child abuse if you don’t feed us right now!”

“Yeah!” Quackity agreed, “give us food or else we’re gonna get Sam to kick your ass!”

Dream shared a look with Ghostbur, matching grins breaking out on their faces as they listened to the kids complaining light heartedly.

He grabbed the plates he had prepared and made his way into the main room, handing the snacks to Tommy and Quackity before sitting in the chair next to the couch the two teens had claimed.

“It’s about time,” Tommy said, taking a bite from one of the apple slices eagerly.

“Oh, Tommy!” Ghostbur said, floating a few feet above the ground next to the couch, his legs crossed beneath him in mid air, “tell Dream about what we found with Jack last week!”

Tommy’s eyes widened as he swallowed, leaning forward excitedly as he started to ramble, words falling from his mouth faster than Dream thought possible.

He watched as the sun just began to set, Tommy’s story washing over him, Quackity adding his own thoughts every now and then, Ghostbur plucking at the guitar he always seemed to have stashed away somewhere absentmindedly, correcting Tommy whenever he felt he had to.

Dream shut his eyes, a smile gracing his lips as he listened to Tommy ramble, a serene feeling of calm washing over him.

_Yeah,_ he thought, watching Quackity dodge Tommy’s hands as he gestured wildly, _we’re gonna be okay._

Night fell as the four of them sat together in that living room, voices and laughter mixing together as they spoke.

Just as they had before it had fallen apart, just as they would again, for weeks, and months, and years to come.

The night was calm, as Dream felt hope for the future he was actually looking forward to seeing,

_(“It’s a nice night,” Fundy said, sitting down next to Dream on the hill, the stars on full display above the pair._

_Dream hummed in agreement, watching the night sky carefully as it shone above him._

_“I love the night,” he said, his shoulder bumping gently against Dream’s, warmth brushing against his bare skin for a moment as they made contact, “it’s always so calm._

_“Like, I love everyone here,” Fundy said, exasperation mixing into his voice, “but god, they can be so much sometimes.”_

_Dream laughed, nodding along in agreement, turning to look at the hybrid, his fur glowing softly in the moonlight._

_“We love you,” he said suddenly, turning to meet Dream’s eyes, “and you probably felt like we didn’t, or don’t, but we do. We always have.”_

_Dream stared at the man, unsure of how to respond._

_He felt a warm hand grab his, and he gripped it back tightly, pulling it closer to him almost desperately._

_“You don’t have to love us back,” Fundy said, turning back to the stars as he spoke, “love shouldn’t be a-an_ obligation. _”_

_Dream nodded, following Fundy’s lead, eyes drifting back to the night sky, the stars shining just a little bit brighter._

_“Even if you hated me though, I would love you for a thousand years more,” he said, hand squeezing Dream’s gently._

_“I would love you if you hated me, and I would love you if you didn’t. I would love you if the stars stopped shining and the world stopped spinning and I knew you would never love me back._

_“No matter who you are at the end of this all, or how you feel once the dust finally settles, I will love the man you become. If that man is someone who hates me, that’s okay._

_“If that man is someone who hates the world that made him that way, that’s also okay. If that man screams at the stars, and hates the day and hates the night and hates the people that made him hate it, then that’s okay. You can be who you want to be, I hope you know that._

_“You don’t need our permission to be yourself,” Fundy said, gaze trained on the stars as he spoke softly, his words barely a whisper in the dead of night, “but whoever ‘yourself’ is, I know I will love them no matter what.”_

_Dream could feel tears trailing down his cheeks, but he paid them no mind, focusing instead on the hand holding his and the stars shining down on him from above._

_They hung there in the sky, watching as Dream changed that night, as part of the man he had tried so hard to become broke away, leaving the man Dream_ was _in its place._

_Dream looked up at the stars, leaning into Fundy’s touch ever so slightly, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to look down._

_‘I think I will be a man who loves you too,’ Dream thought, speaking to the stars as he gazed upon them._

_They didn’t speak back. They never did._

_But they didn’t need to, they never had.)_

The path Dream walked down was familiar, the same path he had walked down all those months ago.

The world was the same, but oh so different. It was a familiar unfamiliarity that made Dream feel like he wasn’t the only one who had changed in the time he was gone.

He walked up to the community house, the setting sun casting a warm, welcoming glow on the building before him.

He could hear voices inside, laughing and joking, no trace of the pain or the anger or the hatred or the suffering that had plagued them all not too long ago.

There was no anger, no war, no threats of violence or fear of injury. There was only the sound of a family, sitting together, being together, living together like they were always meant to.

He paused in front of the door, breathing deeply, gathering his thoughts.

_This is it,_ he thought, his hand hovering above the doorknob, _this is what your struggling has been for. This is what the pain you endured and the loss you struggled through has led to._

_This is your becoming._

Dream shut his eyes, grabbed the handle, and pushed the door open.

The voices all stopped, and for just a moment, Dream felt fear.

He held his breath, waiting for the anger, for the repulsion, the demands for him to leave, to get out, to run home from the life he had never belonged to.

“Ayyyy, Big D!”

All of the voices came back at once, welcoming him, greeting him warmly, their voices carrying no trace of malice or ill intent, just the warmth and joy of a family finally found.

“Come on dude,” Sapnap said from the doorway, grabbing Dream’s hand and pulling him inside, shutting the door gently behind him, “we’ve been waiting like, ten whole minutes for you to get here. Tommy’s been insufferable.”

Dream laughed gently, following his friend into the community house, smiling at the table his family all sat around, waving at them as they said hello.

He moved to the head of the table, pulling back the chair that had been empty for far too long, and he sat down.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Dream said, his voice quiet and rough, but the sound of it was enough to make every person at the table beam.

“I had to figure something out,” he said softly, breathing in deeply, gathering his thoughts.

“Everything good?” Tubbo asked from his seat next to Dream, looking up at his brother with awe and love and everything Dream thought he would never get again.

“Yeah,” Dream said smiling, his voice breaking as he spoke, but everyone still heard him, “yeah, it is.”

Looking around the table, Dream smiled, and finally let himself move on, his past behind him, never forgotten, but no longer dictating who he was.

“I’m better than good,” he said, meeting everyone’s eyes with a smile.

“I’m _home.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am shaking and sobbing and crying right now /lh
> 
> it's actually done, we made it to the end AFDFHBFGBHFGFGGBHG
> 
> I hope this ending was good, i had so much fun writing it and i hope it's satisfying for everyone who's been following this dumb little book >:)
> 
> thank you all so much for everything, this got so much support it gave me so much motivation to write it so thank you to everyone who left comments on it, i know i didnt reply to a Lot of them, but i read every single one and they made me so happy and gave me so much writing juice you dont even KNOW
> 
> I'm so proud of this, it's the longest thing ive ever written, and i think it turned out well!! i'm glad other people enjoyed the concept as much as i did, and i always love fanart or writing or anything inspired by this that you might be motivated to make <3
> 
> so the main fic is over, but i am gonna be doing a oneshots sequel for this, bc i love cottagecore dre Too Much and also I crave validation
> 
> i'm not gonna be making like a sequel book or anything, the main story is over, but i wanna write little snippets or missing scenes from the au, and i may take requests for something people wanted to see in this book that i never got around to writing
> 
> anyways AFDFHJFDHGFGF thank you so much to the people who have been here since day one, you are REAL ONES and i love you so much <333
> 
> i have more longer fic ideas already, and i will start my next Big fic soon, but until then keep ur eyes out for oneshots or smaller fics ;))
> 
> if you wanna check out my art or dm me fanart or anything, or just say hi im on instagram @caydiink and discord @caydiink#5200 so feel free to send me a message any time!!
> 
> if u enjoyed, feel free 2 leave a comment/kudos bc they actually make me so happy im HEART EYES
> 
> i love u guys so much <333 this has been sm fun, l8r sk8rs <3

**Author's Note:**

> first chapter!! :))
> 
> if you enjoyed and want to see more please leave a kudos/comment! they really motivate me and make me :)))
> 
> i have a vague plan for this story and am writing as i go, so we'll see where it leads.
> 
> im on instagram with the same @, so look me up if ur interested ig, thank u sm for reading and i hope u enjoyed!


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